


Don't Leave, Please

by realityfallsapart



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abuse, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alpha Yuri Plisetsky, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But I'll Make It Happy Don't Worry, Character Death, Crying, Death, Eventual Fluff, Falling In Love, Hugs, Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury Recovery, Kidnapping, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Injury, Malnutrition, Nightmares, Okay You Can Worry A Little Bit, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Orphans, Pain, Revenge, Romance, Sara ilysm, Sexual Harassment, Slavery, Slow Burn, Starvation, This Chapter Will Save Me, Violence, War, You're Gonna Cry Too, Yuri Plisetsky Needs a Hug, ambushes, breakdowns, damn this is sad, major angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:15:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 100,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9495134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityfallsapart/pseuds/realityfallsapart
Summary: The child didn't stand a chance. The General thrust out a hand and grabbed a fistful of the boy's black hair in his fist, yanking backwards. The child fell back against the General with a cry of pain and started to fight back with his tiny fists. The General smiled. He wanted to break this boy.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~War has been ravaging the country as raiding parties brutally attack the borders. The emperor tries his best, but he dies due to murder and his son is crowned the new ruler. While fighting, the new emperor encounters a sickly and immensely injured young man that seems to capture him with his beauty. The man turns out to be a prisoner of war, and the new emperor finds himself falling in love with the mysterious person who is riddled with painful memories and on the brink of death.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was requested by a reader of mine, but I hope you all enjoy it :D

It was a moonless night. 

The sleepy town that lay in front of the foreigners was dead quiet, but not without the palpable tension that hung in the air. The residents had, in fact, been expecting an attack for the past month.

And it had finally come.

General Takashi stared accusingly at the small village that was spread out beneath his perch on the mountain. The war had been taxing on both sides, but he had managed to sneak himself and his band of men through the border. They had trekked through snow and ice for five weeks without stumbling upon a single source of food or water due to the fierce grip of winter, and their supplies were within days of depletion--even with strict rations.

In short terms, the cluster of a few dozen buildings was a godsend. 

The General motioned wordlessly for his men to follow him down the side of the mountain, feet careful to not make a sound. He had warned the men when the scouts had first returned with the news of hope that if their position was given away they would die of starvation.

They moved silently through the snowy forest, more like water slipping through fingers than anything. The men had done this plenty of times to be able to sprint across the ground without a single  _crinkle_ or tiny  _thud_ being heard. The General had already briefed his men before they had set out that morning for the village on the layout of the land and small collection of huts, so when the group had reached the foot of the mountain, they instantly split into two and fanned out so the whole village was surrounded.

As the General waited for his men, he listened to what nature was telling him. There wasn't a sound. The few creatures that were still in full operation during the winter had ceased to move, the wind stopped blowing, and the stars seemed to dim. Nature was holding it's breath, seemingly painfully obvious of what was going to happen, but powerless to stop it as the foreigners readied their weapons. 

They waited.

General Takashi paused, feeling for the  _right_ moment to attack. There. Something settled in his gut and he fitted his lips to the war horn that he carried. He blew, and a long, deep, jarring noise tore through the silence like a dagger. The men surged forward with a cry, weapons high, adrenaline surging through their veins. The General stoically watched as the village was sacked; they didn't stand a chance.

Roused from sleep a few men and boys had tried to fight the barbarians off, but the village was a trading one and wasn't keen on such things as fighting, especially not with weapons far more primitive than the one the barbarians were carrying. They were cut down within mere seconds, without mercy or remorse. Screams of children and women echoed off into the night as one by one, the small cottages were set ablaze after looted. It was messy and chaotic and bloody, but the General watched on, eyes never leaving the sight of orange flames.

Or at least, not until he caught a flicker out of the corner of his eye.

The General snapped his head around to where the movement had been and watched the landscape for the source. A few seconds passed without him noticing anything unusual, but then his skilled eyes zeroed in on the moving target. If it wasn't for the flames licking at the sides of the village, the General would not have even seen the boy moving against the snow. Grinning like a wolf, the General unsheathed the dagger at his side and crouched low. There wasn't a very large chance that the boy would see him for the fact alone that the child wasn't facing the General, but one couldn't be too careful. 

The General was almost disappointed at how fast he caught up to the boy. The child didn't stand a chance. The General thrust out a hand and grabbed a fistful of the boy's black hair in his hand, yanking backwards. The child fell back against the General with a cry of pain and started to fight back with his tiny fists. General Takashi glanced at the boy with disdain. He was no more than five or six, but he was small for his age and had tears streaming down his face. The child's nose was running and he was sniffling more times than not.

The General had a fairly large amount of patience, but he had no love for tears, and especially signs of weakness. Growling, he shouted a command at the boy in his own native tongue, but when the child did not understand the foreign language and only sob louder at the General's raised voice, he pushed the edge of his dagger against the boy's throat. Instantly, the boy was silenced and stock-still, hardly even daring to breathe.

The child's eyes were bright regardless of their brown coloring. There was a sparkle in the boy's eyes, a love of life and happiness that seemed to only get even more intense as his emotions became stronger. The General smiled. He was a harsh and calculated man that didn't understand the meaning of mercy, and it showed in his behavior. The General loved to break people. See the light fade and watch as the brutal sense of hopelessness sink it's claws into his victim. It enthralled him. Made him feel alive.

And he wanted to break this boy.

General Takashi's men by now had finished the deed of razing the village to the ground and joined their leader, surrounding the boy. The child shrunk back as he took in the predatory smiles of the adults around him, an extreme sense of danger enveloping him. He knew that something bad was going to happen to him because he hadn't been able to get away, and he was scared. He knew that he should fight back and try to escape. Try to tun away.

But then again, he was old enough to understand the threat of jagged metal against his skin.

* * *

 The emperor roared in anger and thrust his fist down onto the dinner table, teeth clenched, eyes murderous.

The messenger stood in front of him with a helpless look on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by the emperor once again.

"How did they get past us? How did those savages manage to sneak past our fortifications?" he boomed. "My generals swear up and down to me on a daily basis that the war is going smoothly and that the barbarians have  _no chance_ of winning, but I think that this small group of men proved them wrong!"

"My Lord, they were a very small group, and it was during a snowfall..." The young messenger trialed off as the emperor sank deep into this chair with a sigh; all of the fight seeming to drain out of him. Behind them, the emperor's wife was busy clearing out the dinning hall, shooing away servants and other guests alike.

"What have they done? Were there any survivors?" The emperor asked quietly.

"No, sir. The village was burned to the ground as was the surrounding fields. The only signs of life were the paths that the invaders took."

The messenger watched helplessly as his leader deflated in front of his eyes before he had finished his message. He knew that the emperor cared for his subjects very deeply and had been tirelessly fighting the war with the neighboring country. The emperor stayed silent for a count of ten before waving his hand before the messenger in a sign of dismissal. The messenger was hesitant. He knew that he should obey his emperor, but then again, he hadn't finished the message that he had been trusted with.

"Your liege, a child escaped."

At that the emperor looked up hastily, mixed emotions warring on his facial expressions.

"A child? Where are they? Are they all right? I thought you had said that there were no survivors."

The last sentence was uttered with suspicion and slight anger, so the messenger put both hands up in a gesture of peace.

"We are not sure what has become of the child. We found their footprints in the snow, but we believe that the invaders also found them. The child's footprints stopped about a hundred and fifty yards from the very edge of the village, but unfortunately, there were much larger prints all around where the child's stopped. We found no blood or any evidence that the child escaped."

The emperor fell silent yet again and seemed to ponder this new information. As time passed, the man seemed to age decades.

"Then they have the child."

"It was the only conclusion that we could support."

"Find out where the group of invaders went. I want them found and hanged. If the child is still alive when you locate them, bring him here to my palace."

This time when the emperor dismissed the messenger, he hastily left. The emperor sat with his head in his hands for a few moments before calling out to his son, who he had noticed lurking in the shadows when the messenger had first appeared.

"You can come out now."

The emperor waited for a count of three before his son appeared, a tense and wary look on his young face. The emperor smiled tiredly and picked up his son, placing the child on his lap. He ruffled the child's light hair and hugged him close, trying to not imagine if it was his son that was stuck with those barbarians. 

"What happened?"

Normal parents wold have come up with a lie to appease their child, but the emperor and his wife had found out very early on when the war had started that their son understood more than they gave him credit for. Sighing, the emperor stroked his son's hair.

"A group of men invaded and destroyed a village. A child tried to run but the barbarians found him and took him."

"Like a slave?"

"Yes, like a slave."

"Aren't you going to help him?"

The emperor was sure that he felt the sharpness of those words more rather then hear them.

"I am going to try my hardest, believe me."

The emperor stood with his son in his arms and carried the boy down the hall. When they arrived at the prince's chambers, the emperor opened them and placed his son gently on the bed. Normally, his wife had tucked in their boy, but with all that was happening, it was like a wake-up call. When the emperor was on his way out of his son's chambers, he had yet again asked about the fate of the fellow child that had been stolen.

"I do not know, my son. Say an extra prayer to the gods; his health in their hands now."


	2. Phichit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey welcome back my people! My last chapter was a bit cryptic and short, so I'm making up for it here :)

 

**Eleven years later....**

 

Phichit had done it. He had managed to rush though his chores for the day in record time, bursting through the flaps of the tent that he shared with his best friend, a small bowl of soup cradled in his hand. As his eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting inside the small hut-like thing, he shut the entrance and made his way to the make-shift bed in the corner where a figure was huddled. Phichit placed the soup on the floor and knelt over the his best friend, Katsuki Yuuri.

"Yuuri-kun? I have some soup and you need to eat something; it's been a while and I think you can try to keep light foods down." Phichit said softly. He received no answer, so he gently pawned away the thin and worn-out deer-skin blanket that seemed to be so tightly wrapped around the young man under it. Yuuri was pale, his black hair sticking to his head from sweat, but he was also shivering holding his sides as if to fend off the cold. There were large and dark bags under his sunken, dull eyes and his frail body shook.

It broke the twenty-three year old beta's heart to see the teenager like this. Phichit hadn't known Yuuri when he was younger--only met him a few years ago when he was too captured--but he had formed a special attachment to the tortured soul he found. Back when they had first met, Yuuri had already been with his captors for years, and though his life wasn't anywhere near easy, it was better than what he was suffering from now. Yuuri was given food regularly and had a tiny bit of fat on his body. Phichit remembered how determined he was and how the boy was a completely different person when their captor's were't around. Late at night, under the safety of their tiny tent, Yuuri would tell Phichit the stories that his mother would tell him, along with soft jokes. He would occasionally smile, and even more rarely, laugh. Phichit had never met someone quite like him, and knew in his heart that he never would again. So the older man had vowed to protect Yuuri as best as he could. 

Nowadays though, Yuuri smiled even less, and when he did it was wobbly and strained. He stopped telling stories and didn't utter another joke. The light behind his eyes dulled more and more everyday, and Phichit forgot what the sound of Yuuri's laugh was like, all due to Yuuri's presentation. 

About a year ago, Yuuri came out as an omega, and the effect was disastrous. The men stripped him of all of his chores and pawned off to the Thai man to do, while Yuuri became, in all aspects, a sex slave, just because he was a male omega and the barbarians that they were stuck with happened to be pig-headed alpha's who's gross and egotistical opinions and needs seemed to be the only things that mattered. It made Phichit sick to think that they had no qualms with the thought and action of repeatedly raping of a sixteen-year old boy and forcing him into other humiliating sexual deeds. The only good thing that came out of it was that the barbarians were careful during the act for none of them wanted a pregnant omega on their hands. Phichit would have cut off all of their dicks if they had. 

Shaking his head, Phichit helped ease Yuuri into a sitting position and handed him the bowl. Phichit rubbed circles on the omega's bony back as he shakily gulped down a few spoonfuls, the Thai man whispering words of encouragement. With every bite, Phichit's mood improved. Ever since Yuuri fell ill a few weeks ago, his health has been deteriorating at and even more accelerated rate than usual and the beta was worried since half the time Yuuri couldn't keep water down and the General refused to "waste medical supplies on a mere slave of pleasure."

"That's right, you're doing so good, Yuuri." Phichit said, a giddy feeling in his chest. Maybe Yuuri was getting better after all. 

Yuuri and Phichit jumped almost a mile high when the flap covering the entrance was thrown open, one of their captors barging through with a glint in his eyes and booze in his hands. Phichit's heart sunk. He wanted to throw himself either in front of Yuuri or at the man to try and stop what he knew was coming, but it would be like thinking one could jump to the moon. The beta looked on horrified as the man grabbed Yuuri by his upper arm and hauled him up, the teenager letting out a small cry of pain at the sudden violent movement and held his stomach with his free hand, looking like he was going to be sick. Phichit stood and wrapped a palm around the soldier's bicep in haste.

"Please! Don't! He's very sick and I fear that-"

A loud  _SMACK!!!_ resonated in the air as Phichit fell back, holding his cheek where it stung, the man sneering over top of him. 

"Listen you dumb bastard, you are a slave and so is the boy. I am one of your masters. You  _don't_ tell me what I can and cannot do worthless whore." The man kicked Phichit in the ribs where he lay, a groan forcing it's way past the beta's lips as he watched the alpha drag Yuuri away. Phichit felt hot tears streak down his cheeks, the one still burning from a sure-to-be-there hand print.

_Oh, Yuuri, I promised I would protect you. Look how well I seem to be failing._

* * *

Yuri Plisetsky sat on his cot as his general debriefed him on the state of their army. He was being tended to by his personal doctor, a red-headed beta woman whom he had known most of his life, for his most recent injury from war--a gash along the side of his arm from an enemy sword. 

"Have they shown signs of retreating yet?"

"No sir," his stoic general replied, a young, slightly-older alpha named Otabek, "they are still in position despite the recent casualties."

"Damn." Yuri cursed. "It's been nearly twelve years since they first attacked us and they still haven't left!" 

Yuri was passionate about the war with their neighboring countries for a multitude of reasons--duty, anger, pride--but the main fuel for his drive of defeating his enemies was that this seemingly unquenchable conflict robbed him of his parents. It was a little over a year ago, and Yuri's mother and father were on a diplomatic mission when their carriage was ambushed and they were murdered. Yuri had just turned eighteen at the time. Now, he was a year older, one of the youngest emperors to rule, and the youngest emperor to ever command the army.

"Stop moving!" Mila, his doctor, berated. Most people didn't talk to him like that, but Mila was more like an annoying sister than a physician, so she wasn't like most people. Yuri grumbled under his breath, but he did as he was told.

"Hurry up, I want to get back out there." 

"No, you aren't." Mila and Otabek said at the same time without hesitation. 

"You are the emperor of the nation, and in case you haven't noticed, you have no heir or other family." Mila continued, wrapping Yuri's arm in gauze. Yuri growled.

"So? That doesn't mean that I am going to just sit here as my men die! There are about seven different firefights happening right now and my presence would help the morale of  _all_ of the men!"

General Otabek put a hand on Yuri's shoulder and Yuri glared up at the older man. 

"No one is asking that of you Yuri. All we are saying is that being reckless and throwing yourself into harms way while you are still injured is no proper way to handle this situation. Give yourself a day or two to rest. You have been pushing yourself harder and harder as everyday passes since your father's death; let your body start to heal before you return. This war will still be here in a few days."

Yuri fell quiet and nodded. Even though he didn't like it, the two of them were right.

"I'll give myself a day, but after that, I'm going back out on the front lines with my men."

* * *

When Yuuri was thrown back through the flap of their tent, Phichit caught him. The teenager was covered in a fresh set of bruises on his body, a sheen of sweat over his skin and patches of semen everywhere. He was barely conscious and absolute dead-weight in the Thai man's arms, who looked down worriedly. 

"Yuuri? Yuuri talk to me." 

Phichit received no answer, so he pressed his lips together and shifted the too-light boy in his arms so he was carrying him bridal style. Phichit made his way down to the river a few dozen yards from the edge of their camp, and helped Yuuri out of his clothing. Making sure to be as gentle as possible, the beta bathed the omega in the river, drying him with the Thai man's own shirt and wrapping him in it. By now Yuuri was completely unconscious, and Phichit placed him on the side of the river bank while he washed the ragged clothing that Yuuri had been wearing, working the material between his fingers to try and get some of the stains out. When he was done, he carried Yuuri and the wet clothes back to their hut, avoiding all of their captors as best as he could. 

Back in the false safety of their shared hut, Phichit removed his shirt from around the naked omega and replaced it with their only blanket--the same one Yuuri had before. The beta positioned Yuuri's clothes around the fire in the middle of their hut and tugged his own shirt back over his head even though it was damp. Phichit sat down next to Yuuri's head and leaned against the material of their tent, threading his fingers through Yuuri's hair to work some of the knots out.

Why. Why did the gods have to subject someone as beautiful and sweet and kind as Yuuri to a fate such as this? Had he sinned terribly in a past life? Maybe there would be something good to come out of this? Phichit frowned. It could have been his negative and pessimistic thoughts, but he couldn't fathom a suitable reward for the pain that Yuuri has been through. Still going through, and it only gets worse. Phichit knew that Yuuri had been with this same exact group of barbarians since he was a young child of five years old, and the invaders had burned his village to the ground.

His family was dead. He was a prisoner to the people that had attacked his country. He was used for their sexual enjoyment. How could things get much worse for the teenager?

Immediately, Phichit found himself regretting that mental question. Things could always get worse and it was foolish to even try to tempt the gods by entertaining such thoughts. The beta was torn from his thoughts as a coughing fit latched it's claws into Yuuri, shaking his whole body in his sleep. Phichit gave Yuuri a pained smile even though the younger could not see it. 

"Shhh, Yuuri it's okay....it's okay...."

Phichit swallowed as he stared at his coughing best friend in his arms. Yuuri was growing sicker everyday, and nothing Phichit was doing was helping at all. Yuuri needed medical help if he was going to survive, and Phichit wasn't sure if he could deliver. He was stuck in this camp just as much as the omega, and the General wasn't interested enough to try and get Yuuri what he needed. He was starting to come to terms with the fact that it was very likely that Yuuri would die. It crushed Phichit, it really did. Yuuri was the reason why he had survived so far. The omega had given the Thai man his friendship, his trust, his hopes and dreams, and Phichit had in return given him the protection he could, companionship, and someone to hold on for. 

It was amazing really, what one person can do for another. 

By now, Yuuri settled back into a restless sleep, but Phichit kept raking his hands through the omega's hair. He would do anything to change the fate of the boy next to him, even trade places with the other if it would give Yuuri a moment of rest and peace. He deserved so much better. Phichit had never really been one for praying and religion, but he decided that a little extra luck wouldn't hurt.

_Help Yuuri, please._

* * *

Yuri was huddled over battle plans with Otabek and a few of his other generals when his servant Minami entered the tent they were under. Yuri looked up, beckoning the young boy over. 

"Yes, Minami? What is it?"

"A scout has found a group of about three dozen invaders in the woods a few kilometers away."

"Send a patrol down and have them take care of it." Yuri said, waving a hand in dismissal, wanting to return to the his conversation with his generals. Their enemy had been inactive for the past few days, and they were developing a strategy to take advantage of the temporary cease of violence.

"My lord, the leader of the group is General Takashi."

Yuri froze, as did the men beside him. They all knew that name. General Takashi and his group of men managed to sneak past the army in the beginning of the war more than a decade ago, burning down villages ever since, seemingly unable to be caught. They were responsible for hundreds of civilian and military deaths, including the late emperor and his wife. Takashi and his band of barbarians had killed Yuri's parents. They were the ones that ambushed the carriage.

And they deserved to pay.

Yuri could feel the stared of his men on him, but he didn't care. Yuri swallowed before standing and making his way towards the entrance. 

"This meeting in adjourned and will be continued when I return. General Otabek, gather a team and have them ready to leave within half and hour. Minami, ready my armor in my tent and find another servant to locate the scout to find them. Were they sure it was the General?"

"Yes, my liege, he said that he recognized the face of the General immediately."

"Good. Did he mention if they showed any signs of leaving?"

"No, my lord. The scout reported that they were firmly camped."

"Very well. Attend to my armor, I will be there in a moment." 

The young servant nodded and bowed deeply to his emperor before hastily leaving to carry out his orders while Yuri turned to his generals.

"I will be back by tomorrow at sundown. If I am struck down or captured, I name General Otabek Altin as my successor. Make it known to the men at supper tonight that we have found the General, and I am going to be bringing him to justice." All of the men nodded as Yuri left and headed in the direction of his personal quarters. The General had been found, and by the gods Yuri wasn't going to let him get away with the deaths of his parents. It was time to make General Takashi  _pay._

* * *

Yuuri wanted to sleep. 

His body ached all over from the torture that his captors put him through the other night, he was ill, and wanted nothing more than to curl up together in a tiny ball where no one else could hurt him and sleep where he could still dream, though Yuuri didn't doubt that his tormentors would find a way to strip him of that joy too. After that there would only be Phichit to give him a stitch of happiness. 

"Yuuri! Yuuri wake up! Now!" 

Phichit was shouting, and the only bazaar thing about it was that he had never, in all of the years that he had known the darker skinned man, heard him raise his voice. Not at the barbarians they were with, not at him. So what did that mean?

Yuuri felt hands on his body, roughly shaking him, and Yuuri couldn't help but let out a groan of pain. The movement made his stomach roll in protest and his head throb even worse than normal. He wanted it to stop.

"Damn it Yuuri," Phichit said under his breath, but Yuuri had always had good hearing, just bad eyesight. That was another thing. He had never heard the beta curse in his life, never even realized that Phichit knew a single cuss word. His blood ran cold as he felt Phichit hoist him up to his feet and support a still-half conscious Yuuri with an arm under his shoulders, not waiting for the omega to even wake up fully before running, carrying nearly all of his weight. That's when Yuuri smelled the smoke, and he didn't know how he could have missed it before. It was thick and hung in the air, forcing lung-aching coughs from Yuuri. A blast of fresh wind hit the omega in the face and he was blind sighted at the difference, now hearing the screams of dying men and shouts of warriors trying to claim glory upon the battlefield. Blinking his eyes open, Yuuri looked behind them to gasp at the sight of their hut up in flames. No,  _all_ of the tiny shelters were bathed in fire. Yuuri yet again moved his attention to around he and Phichit, to discover that they were in the middle of a battle, one-on-one brawls with glinting swords and bows and arrows on all sides.

Yuuri finally understood the gravity of the situation, and tried with all of his ability to help propel his body where Phichit wanted to go, but he was too weak from sickness and injury to achieve much. Yuuri had been with this specific caravan for the past eleven years, and they had been attacked before, but it had never been like this. The barbarians had never been the ones to be struck down like lightning against a tree. Normally, they were the butchers, but this time, they were being slaughtered. 

"Phichit!" Yuuri gasped as he glimpsed a soldier in armor atop a stark white horse, slicing down his enemies with mighty sweeps of his sword. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know. I have no idea of where we are anymore with how much we have traveled, but if the country's army is here, then I bet you that civilization can't be far away."

"The country's army? Why would they be here?"

"I don't know! All I know is that we are getting out of here and I will not let you get captured again!"

"But I was born here, so that means that army is  _my_ army! We should be running to them!"

"Yuuri, listen, no one from your village survived, and that means that you cannot prove that you were born here. Yes, you speak the language and yes you look like some of the locals that live in the northern east parts of the empire, but languages are learned and just because you look like some of them, it doesn't mean that you  _are_ them. They could also think that since you spent so much time with these invaders, you might be on their side. Look, Yuuri,  _I don't know_ I just want to get you somewhere safe and heal you."

They struggled along, past fights and huts with flames licking the walls and roof. Yuuri was starting to get out of breath, but he wasn't going to say anything. Phichit as supporting nearly all of his weight and while he may not have been sick like Yuuri was himself, he wasn't exactly fit and healthy either from his imprisonment.

"Come on Yuuri, you can do this, just a little further."

They continued to run, were right on the outskirts and passed two men grappling with each other. Yuuri started to feel something in his chest stir, but it was unfamiliar so he didn't recognize it at first, but when he did, it sent a warm feeling through his bones. Hope. He felt hope. Yuuri wanted to shout with happiness, to laugh and cry and do so many things for the fact that he was going to be  _FREE_ and he probably would have, if it wasn't for Phichit, gasping in pain next to him and dropping like a pile of bricks, taking Yuuri with him. Yuuri hit his head hard on something, making his vision swim and blur more than normal, yet he still turned his head, but was that....no.....NO!!!

Phichit was laying on the ground, the shaft of an arrow sticking out of his chest, red blossoming from under his shirt. Though it caused him immense pain with his newly found head injury, Yuuri hauled himself over to his best friend, draping himself over the Thai man.

"Phichit! No! Don't you dare leave me! Don't you dare!" Yuuri screamed, all other sounds, sights and smells starting to fade as the black around the edge of his vision creeped up on him. Phichit looked at Yuuri, and gave him a weak smile. 

"Go, Yuuri. Run. Never look back. Just keep running. Live a good life....for me...." he wheezed out.

The beta's head fell back as the dark-skinned man's eyes slowly dulled, his chest relaxing as the last breath of Phichit Chulanont was released into the night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance, especially to those that have read my other YuYuu fic, where the shit hit the fan and the angst train is racing down on it's tracks, and I just gave you all more angst


	3. Rescue

The scream was different from any of the other ones that were common on the battlefield, which was what caught the young emperor's attention. Normally, the shouts were laced with the pain of a fresh wound, screams of anger and protest as a soldier witnessed a comrade fall in battle, war cries that demanded bloodshed. This particular sound, however, was broken and jagged with emotion, drenched with emotional pain deep enough to drown in, and it reminded Yuri of when he found out about his parent's murder. That type of anguish didn't belong on a battlefield, yet it was here anyway. Abruptly, the scream died and it's sudden absence intrigued the alpha more that anything.

Yuri yanked his sword out of the chest of the barbarian he had been in conflict with and the burly man collapsed in a lump together on the ground, but the blond didn't pay much attention to him, too busy scanning his surroundings for the source of the anomaly. All he could see was fire consuming the remaining huts and the rest of his men finishing up with the last of the invaders that had set camp here. His second in command, Otabek Altin, ran up to him. 

"All of the men are taken care of, but we have yet to locate General Takashi." 

This made Yuri frown. Something wasn't adding up. 

"Did you hear that, beka?"

"The scream? Yes, it was very unusual."

"Find the source of it if you can. I'll be looking too. If someone discovers where that damn general is yell for me."

His right-hand man nodded and the emperor turned his horse and weaved his way in and out of the huts, looking everywhere for who could have screamed like that. He found only dead bodies of burly men and blood. About to give up, he noticed a small figure laying awkwardly against the ground, about a dozen or so meters from the edge of the camp the enemy had established. Yuri cautiously made his way forward, dropping to his feet when he came close. 

They were dead, whoever they were, with dark, tan skin and even darker hair, their glassy eyes eternally staring up into space. Yuri closed the man's eyes. They were not much older than he was, that much was obvious, and they were also clearly not part of the barbarian forces, their build too lean, clothing too worn, plain, and lacking armor. Whoever this was was a mystery, including why they were here because it was common knowledge that these invaders that his empire was facing did not take prisoners or even slaves--the only clear thing about this man was his means of death, which was a large feather arrow belonging to the enemy. They had shot one of their own?

Standing, Yuri remounted his horse and stood on his stirrups to scan the area.....looking.....looking.....there! Yuri flicked his wrists and flattened himself against the body of his mount, calling back to him to Otabek.

"I've found him! East of the camp and on the river!" 

Yuri had recognized the large frame of General Takashi immediately sloshing through the shallow waters of the river, but there was also another figure, limp and slung over the General's shoulder like a sac of meat. Why was the General all of the sudden taking prisoners? Were they important? The blond decided that it did not matter at this moment in time, but filed away the questions for further pondering. Yuri sacrificed stealth for speed, and General Takashi turned his head to glance at the sound of upcoming hoof prints, eyes widening and he dropped the figure on his back straight into the freezing waters before taking off as fast as one could on foot. Yuri cursed. How was he supposed to do this now? Should he take out the General or save the unconscious and now drowning person in the river? 

Looking behind, him, the alpha frantically searched for anyone else that could take care of the figure in danger, but the closest person was Otabek, and on foot he wouldn't make it with the raging current and distance. 

"God damn!" He said before abruptly changing directions and instead of continuing on his earlier path of straight across the river, he followed the current on his horse, splashing water everywhere but not really caring, looking everywhere in the water for whoever was down there. It took Yuri several dozen meters downhill, but he eventually caught up with the small figure. Slipping off of his horse and hanging onto the bridal to keep his balance, Yuri braced himself to hoist the figure up and out of the frigid waters, but gasping in surprise and nearly falling off balance when he discovered that even with water-logged clothing, the man weighted almost nothing. No, not man, but boy. Yuri was probably older than him by a few years. Was he the General's son?

Like before, it didn't matter. Yuri carried the victim to the shores, where he placed the younger and reclaimed his position on his horse, meeting eye contact with Otabek, who nodded. The boy would be taken care of.

Meanwhile, Yuri raced, pressing his horse as fast as he could without harming the beast, trying to make up for lost time. Yuri closed the distance relatively fast, but by the time that he caught up to the General, he was already entering a low part of the forest, forcing Yuri to dismount, perusing on foot. Breathing through his mouth, Yuri shouting to the back of the General. 

"General Takashi! Fight me, coward!"

The General, unable to walk away from an insult or challenge, turned, a mocking expression on his scarred face.

"Well, isn't it the pipsqueak boy that got stuck playing a big boy job. How are your parents?" He asked, flashing a nearly toothless grin. The General knew the young emperor very well. They had glanced at each other before on the battlefield, but never up close, and Yuri had said before that he would kill the person responsible for the late emperor and empress' deaths when he had first taken power, and bold words like that reached even the most secluded of parties like himself. 

Yuri growled, deep in his throat and launched himself at the General--too reckless and without a plan. The General saw this, and decided to capitalize on the opportunity. With a quick change of feet and body, the General was able to mostly move out of the way of the blond and struck a leg out, kicking the younger man sharply in the side. Yuri fell, but he quickly regained his footing and pointed the end of his sword at his enemy.

"Draw your weapon old man!"

"I need not a weapon to defeat a child!"

With a shout, General Takashi started forward and ducked at the last minute as Yuri thrust with his sword, the blade just passing over the barbarian's head, who in turn tackled the younger alpha's legs, sending both of them to the ground where the General easily wrestled the blade out of the emperor's hands, casting it aside out of reach. From then on, it was a standard brawl, both men throwing punches and kicks, grunts spilling from both of their mouths. However, it was over within minutes, the General easily overpowering the other. Yuri might have been stronger and more cunning than most nineteen-year old's, but then again, he did not have the experience and sheer ungodly strength that the invader did. The General pinned the blond to the ground and peered down at the emperor with a calm and unreadable expression.

"I'm not going to kill you, at least, not yet. You have promise, and I would hate to murder you without seeing what you can become. Hope we don't meet again until you are ready, for I will not be so merciful next time."

And everything went black.

* * *

Yuri blinked awake some time later to Otabek hovering over him with his usual stoic expression, though there was a tiny bit of visible concern in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked in his low voice. 

Yuri sat up and the older man backed up to give him room. The blond held his throbbing head and nodded. 

"Yeah. Yeah, beka, I'm fine. A few bruises, headache, but other than that I'm perfectly fine. Did you get the General or at least see where he was going?" Yuri asked hopefully, even though he knew that the chances were slim. Otabek shook his head.

"No. By the time I brought the boy to the village and found one of the soldiers with enough common sense and medical knowledge to take care of him and track you down, he was gone without a trace. I found you laying on the ground unconscious, your sword a few meters away." Otabek held out a hand to help him up and Yuri took it. Brushing off himself, Yuri glanced at his best friend.

"How is he? Is he awake?"

"Not when I left."

As the two men walked back to the camp the barbarians had made, Yuri leading his horse, the blond bounced his ideas off of the more experienced soldier.

"Why would they have him? And he wasn't the only one. I found someone else similarly dressed to the boy I pulled out of the water near the edge of the camp, an arrow sticking out of his chest. I though that these men we are dealing with didn't take prisoners."

Otabek was silent for a few moments, heavy in thought for a moment before answering. 

"Any invading party could have prisoners of war with them for multiple reasons. Leverage, labor, sometimes even to sell into slavery, but you are right. These warriors that we have been fighting haven't taken anyone--only killed. I'm not sure why they would be in the camp with the barbarians. They aren't strong enough or built correctly for work, and there really is no reason why the men would have needed two people to act as nannies. They also aren't leverage, you can tell by the way that they were treated."

"But General Takashi started to carry him off later only to drop him in the river when it became apparent that he couldn't outrun me. This whole situation is weird." Yuri remarked and Otabek nodded is head in agreement. 

When they returned to the small camp covered in ash and blood, they found their men sitting on the ground, polishing weapons and conversing with one another. They all bowed when Yuri passed as customs dictated, and upon asking a soldier directed the two to the location of the prisoner Yuri had rescued. He was laying in a half-burned out hut, limp and unconscious on the ground, skin pale and a sweat on his forehead. A soldier was next to him, a frown on his face. 

"How is he?" Yuri asked. His boy in the river cost him the ability of having backup during his fight with the General, so the blond figured that he might as well invest himself in the well-fare of the boy. 

"Not good. He's sick and way too thin to be healthy, not to mention he was bleeding from a recent head injury--most likely from when the General knocked him out. I'm pretty sure that there isn't anything else wrong with him, but then again, I'm no where near a doctor, so you shouldn't take my word for it."

Yuri crouched down and put his hand on the boy's forehead, almost drawing back with how it nearly burned to the touch. The younger figure moaned weakly at the contact, furrowing his brows and whimpering out, "Phichit? Phichit!" in a tiny voice. Yuri shushed him gently and took his hand away before glancing up at the two men standing above him. 

"Otabek, have the men bury the bodies of the barbarians in a mass grave, but put the other prisoner in his own; maybe under a tree or something. Sargent, get a cloth and dip it in the river and bring it here. I'm going start ahead with the boy to get him medical attention, but I want to try to sooth his fever firsthand." They both nodded and left the hut, leaving Yuri with the mysterious boy, who broke out into a coughing fit seconds later, causing Yuri to frown to himself and brush the black hair out of the boy's face out of instinct. 

Yuri stared at the boy and his thick locks of pitch-black hair, his skinny frame, the way his eyelashes seemed to compliment the very shape of his closed eyes. The alpha had to admit, the younger had a certain charm to him, a delicate beauty that Yuri wanted to place on a dais where everyone could see and appreciate it. He wanted to help him, see him well again. 

"Who are you? What's your story?" Yuri wondered out loud.

* * *

When Yuri arrived back at his army's camp, he was greeted with cheers and cries of triumph. 

"Did you slay the General, emperor?"

"Is he dead, my liege?"

Yuri didn't answer the catcalls of his men for he was too busy scooping the boy from his position on the blond's horse and rushing towards the tent of his doctor's. Over the course of the trip, the younger's health had rapidly deteriorated so much so that Yuri was positive that he was knocking on Death's door. Bursting through the flaps of the tent, Yuri ignored the startled cry of Mila and placed the boy on her bed before turning around and facing the red head.

"We found him at the camp the barbarians set up, and he's nearly dead. He was hit on the head and he's way too skinny, plus he was accidentally dropped in a river and-"

Mila put both of her hands up to halt Yuri's stream of words and pushed past him to kneel next to the figure on the bed, taking one look at him and frowning, a determined look covering her face. 

"Yuri, go and fetch Sara. I'm going to need my assistant with him. Also, I'm going to have to borrow a servant or two to run for the things that I am going to need. There isn't all that much I can do because we are on a battlefield and with limited supplies, but I am going to try."

When the young emperor returned with Mila's assistant, Sara, in tow, the female doctor had already undressed the boy and had him under the sheets, a wet cloth on his forehead. Sara and Mila both started to talk in urgent tones, the red head explaining the discoveries she had already found and what she thought would be the best treatment options.

"Is he going to be alright?" Yuri asked nervously.

Yuri knew the cost of war. People died. All the time, actually. Good men, men that had families and friends that would from then on be forever waiting for them to come home. Hell, he lost his own parents to this damn war and was thrown into the position of emperor nearly completely blind-sighted. He knew the consequences of war and violence, but yet he didn't want to see this young boy die, and he couldn't quite explain why. Was it the fact that he had developed a respect for the other over their short journey alone together? Was it the fact that Yuri desperately wanted to know why he was kept by the barbarians--the same people that valued no prisoners? Or maybe, just maybe, was he automatically feeling protective of this unknown individual because he was young enough to be a little brother who should be safe back at home away from this hell that was called war? Was it because he was so obviously mistreated at least physically? Damn it what was it that drew him to this boy!

Both Sara and Mila looked at him for a moment before simultaneously ushering him towards the entrance of the tent and pushing him out despite his protests. 

"You can't kick me out!"

"Yes, we can. For the health of our patient and the room and environment that we need to work, Sara and I have every right to remove anyone from the premises disregarding their standings in society." Mila said sweetly, though her tone wasn't fooling anyone; it was an order for him to get lost.

Yuri stood there in shock outside of the tent before clenching his jaw and relenting. There was nothing he could really do but wait until they came and retrieved him, so the blond walked back to his tent and shook his head in an attempt to shake his worries out of his head. Mila and Sara were some of the most capable people he knew--that boy would be safest in their hands. Meanwhile, Yuri had to focus. He had a war to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whatcha think is going to happen?
> 
> School is a bit nuts right now, so I am going to take a week or so for a break to keep from overwhelming myself too much, but I will still answer any and all comments that you guys end me! Thanks for reading!


	4. Yuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient you guys while I took a quick break!

Yuri nearly screamed when he felt a hand abruptly place itself on his mouth. Snapping his eyes open, he immediately shot a hand out, swatting away the hand and rolling out of bed and into a fighting position, his sleepy eyes straining to make shapes out of the darkness of his tent, a growl emanating from the back of his throat. When the young emperor's eyes adjusted, he saw a startled Sara standing a few feet away, eyes wide, hands up and neck bared in an instinctual sign of submission from the sound that Yuri produced. 

"Sara? It's the middle of the night!" Yuri whisper-shouted, slowly unfreezing into a much less hostile position. "Is something wrong? Are we under attack?" he asked urgently after a heartbeat. Over the past two weeks, the barbarians have been withdrawing and moving their position much farther north with Yuri and his army following. The warnings of an imminent attack has been mounting recently, and Yuri feared the moment when all of the tensions would break. At night, however would be the worst time. Eighty percent of the soldiers were sleeping, not to mention the fact that it was pitch black and sight was limited. 

"No, no nothing like that." She replied before grabbing the blond's arm and starting to pull him outside. "It's about that boy that you brought us."

As the young alpha stumbled after the assistant to his doctor, his mind raced. It had been two weeks of Mila and Sara holed up in their tent, barely coming out to even retrieve food, a strict order for everyone to stay away unless for an emergency. Yuri, however, had been worried sick. The boy that he had scooped out of the river had obviously been special enough for those that  _refused_ to take prisoners to all of the sudden risk their lives in carrying him away _under_ _attack too,_ and Yuri wanted to know why. Who could be that compelling at such a young age?

That curiosity wasn't the only mystery plaguing the young emperor's conscious though. He still was searching for the reason as to why he found himself caring about the welfare of this teenager so deeply. He knew not of the other's name, the sound of his voice, or even the most basic knowledge, yet he had found himself risking losing the General in favor of saving him, traveled through the night on his horse to carry the smaller to their camp, and even demanded his personal doctor and friend to care for this stranger. Hell, Yuri didn't even know if this boy was on  _their side._ He was wracking his brains to try and figure out a rational explanation for his feelings, but was failing miserably. 

"Is he okay?" the blond gasped, feeling his mood drop and the wordless shake of Sara's head. 

Sara released his hand once they made it to the tent that Mila called home, and Yuri wasted no time, running forward and flinging the flaps of material open wide, stopping at the scene before him. 

The boy was deathly pale in the bed, shivering worse than a leaf in a hurricane even though he was under blankets. He was also sweating and breathing so rapidly that Yuri was sure that it could be considered hyperventilating, Mila kneeling next to him, a cloth in her hand and a tired and drawn out expression on her features. She looked up when Yuri entered, and for a second, all the blond saw was the heartbroken look in her eyes. 

"Yuri....." she started but never finished. The alpha moved from his position further into the tent and Sara followed him. A questioning silence overtook the emperor, and Mila squirmed under his intense gaze.

"Yuri, I can't do anything else for him. He's going to die."

Instantly, as if those four words controlled Yuri's life, the entire world seemed to shatter.  _No, I can't lose him now! He must have been so special and so strong to have stayed with those barbarians, and I won't even get to meet him! Who even is he? Damn it he can't die now!_ Yuri felt moisture prickle at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to cry. Tears did not belong in war. He did not cry when his parents were murdered, so he would not shed tears for an unnamed boy laying on a bed. Instead, he spoke.

"Why?" His voice was nothing more than a croak, thick with emotion that Yuri himself didn't know how to explain or place.  _Goddamnit what is this boy doing to me!_

Mila rubbed her face with a hand and stood, making her way to her emperor and friend so they were face to face.

"First off, he is suffering from malnutrition and dehydration, and from what I can tell, this hasn't been a recent development, but something that has been going on for most likely years now. This makes his body very weak, in turn justifying the intense illness that he is also experiencing, magnified by his poor health, and I can't even diagnose it. What isn't helping is that he can't even keep water down, throwing up anything we give him in a matter of hours. He's feverish and experiences frequent nightmares that I only hope are not flashbacks."

"What do you mean?"

Mila sighed deeply, seemingly aging twenty years in seconds. She beckoned Yuri closer, who would have followed out of his own curiosity anyways. She lifted the sheet covering the boy and Yuri sucked in a breath, his eyes widening. There was an assortment of bruises dotting the sickly-pale skin everywhere, and all of varying sizes, the smallest one about he same width of a sword and the largest covering the boy's whole left hand side. The largest bruise was so dark that is was nearly black. The blond could see the indentations of his ribs, and he couldn't believe just how skinny the smaller was. Yuri looked desperately at the red-headed doctor after a moment, who only shook her head and motioned to Sara behind them. 

"Sara, help me."

The two women gently rolled over the boy so he was on his stomach, and Yuri nearly vomited. There were scars covering his back in careless lines, each varying in their healing, some pale white and others still scabbing. A large wound covered the boy's entire right shoulder blade, the tissue an angry red and just starting to repair itself. More bruises were littered across his back, particularly on his bony spine.

"How....."

What he meant to ask was how a human being could experience such abuse plain and simple, but the words died as soon as his mouth opened. How could this boy still be alive after all of this? Was that other boy they found not too far away from the barbarian camp like this too? How long had this boy put up with this?

Questions raced through the young emperor's head, but all of the sudden, he felt such a large sense of possessiveness over the stranger in Mila's bed, and all of the confusion seemed to halt for the moment; Yuri's brain reverting to a one-track thought. That one desire was to stop  _asking_ and start  _doing,_ firstly healing this boy, listening to his story, and then  _damning that motherfucking General to the deepest fucking pits of hell._ The sudden aggression was unexpected, but not unwelcome for the fact that it helped him ground himself.

"I don't know, but I know that he was fiercely abused, and left him with some deep psychological issues. Like I said, he has been having reoccurring nightmares, but only a few words are understandable, and they don't paint a pretty picture."

Out of impulse, Yuri reached out and rested his palm in the boy's hair. 

"You said he was going to die?" Yuri asked quietly. The alpha did not need to witness the disappointment in herself that overcame Mila's expressions. 

"Yes. I cannot treat him here on the battle field. For the injuries that I know how to treat, I would need more sophisticated materials and ingredients, not to mention the immense time it would take to transport this boy somewhere the items he needs to be saved."

"But you could try." Yuri said desperately. He needed this boy to survive.

"Yuri, I can't leave the front lines even if I though that he would survive the journey, and with his condition, I doubt he will live past another two weeks."

"Why not?" he challenged, this time looking up and the beta woman. "Mila you are not like the other medical personnel here. You can be dispatched back to the capital, and it won't hinder the health of the army."

Mila gave him a pained expression before crouching down to his level and grabbing his hands in hers.

"Yuri, I have one of the most important jobs here, and I don't say that lightly. I am here to ensure your health, to heal you after every battle you take place in. You are the emperor and you have no heir, which is why you're well being is not trusted with the average doctor. Yuri, I cannot and will not leave your side unless one of three things happens: 1) I die, 2) we win this war, or 3) you come back with me. No exceptions. Sadly, if this boy has to die due to me completing my duty as a medical scholar, citizen of this empire, and friend of you, then I am sorry to this stranger but I am willing to make that sacrifice and later dealing with the guilt."

"Mila, just until he is at least stable, please I can't-"

"You can't what Yuri? Look, I have never seen you so passionate about anything other than this godforsaken war ever since your parents died but you cannot throw caution to the wind. What do you think will happen if you are injured and since I am not here you die because of a 'doctor' who doesn't know what they are doing? Yuri listen to yourself! Which rich and fat noble do you think will manage to wrap their greedy hands around the throne if you pass? What do you think will happen then?"

The young emperor felt utterly helpless. He knew that Mila was right and he was being completely irrational, but granted, his whole thought process over the past few days hasn't been anywhere near rational, his mind too preoccupied with the deteriorating health of this stranger.

"Is there any chance at all?" 

"No, I'm sorry. I can't do any more but ease his pain a little with the materials I have to work with here at the front lines."

Yuri slumped in on himself and hung his head in anguish. He would never even get to know this boy's name. Mila hugged him tightly, and while he didn't fit into the embrace nearly as well as he had when he was younger and smaller, he still accepted it gratefully, though he still refused to cry. A bitter silence overtook the whole tent, unbroken for a seemingly endless stream of minutes until the unexpectedly hopeful voice of Sara rang out in the tent.

"What if I were to go? I'm not nearly as needed here, and I could oversee his health long enough for us to make the journey to the capital."

The alpha shot his head up and wanted to hug the assistant. Why hadn't he thought about it earlier!

"Are you sure Sara? I mean, there is no telling how long it could take and the dangers you may experience. Not to mention that he could easily-" Mila started.

"No, I'm sure. I want to help him, and I can't just sit here and watch him die. You and I have talked plenty about what we wished we had to treat this boy, so I know exactly what to get him and how to treat him with it. I can always take a few soldiers with me if you see the need for me to, but I don't really see the reason why robbers or stray groups of barbarians would even want to try to come near a nurse and her dying patient. Besides, I'm sure that my brother would be willing to house the two of us until-"

"No, if you are going to take the trip back to the city, I will not subject you and your brother to single-handedly caring for the boy. He can stay at my palace and you can use my money to buy anything you need to treat him. I would offer you a room there too, but I know that you would rather stay with your brother." Yuri added, his last statement a little sheepish.

Sara and Yuri both turned towards the other beta woman in the tent, who had a thoughtful look on her face. Yuri could see her weigh the options, calculating the pros and cons of her decision before standing and grabbing a satchel thrown in the corner of the tent, throwing herbs and other medical supplies that they had been treating the boy with over the past two weeks.

"You leave in the morning."

* * *

 

 

**Nine days later....**

 

Sara bit her lip at the sight of the boy in her arms. The traveling had done nothing but cause the stranger's health to decrease at such a rapid pace, she was honestly surprised that he was still alive, even if only hanging on by a thread. His fever still hadn't broken, his body was limp, and his shaking breathes were nothing more than tiny inhales that barely moved his chest. 

_Come on, you can't die!_

"Faster! He's dying!" Sara shouted at the driver of the carriage that was carrying them to the capital, and he nodded before urging the horses harder. Sara turned her attention back to her patient, truly able to do nothing more than keep the black hair out of his face. She had run out of medicine for him to take three days ago. Sara prayed silently to the gods. 

_Please, don't let him die. I thought that Yuri was being impulsive again when he had shown just how desperate he was for this boy to be well again, but I now feel similar. There is something about this stranger, something special and I don't want to see it crushed. Just please, let him live._

"Miss! We're almost there, just another few kilometers until the capitol and then the palace!" The driver shouted over the wind. Sara didn't respond, but she did hear the statement.

_Please._

* * *

Yuri yanked his sword from the body of the barbarian in front of him, pushing the dead man out of his way and immediately being faced with another. The tension that the young emperor had sensed had finally broken, and what had just been a simple raiding party from the invaders of about twenty men had exploded into an all out battle, complete with catapults, broken screams as men were brutally killed, and blood. The blood was probably one of the worst things. It was everywhere and Yuri was drenched in the substance, but he didn't even know whose, only that it was a deep and dark red. 

His breathing was echoed in his own ears, but Yuri decided that that was one of the most comforting things that he has ever experienced and for the reason that it reassured Yuri that he was still alive. Still living. Unfortunately, it also proved the point that if Yuri was still alive, he could still die, and thoughts like those sobered him up after every invader he slayed, keeping his thought process devoid of any hubris that came from so far being unchallenged with his marksmanship. 

Parrying a thrust from his opponent, the blond flicked his eyes to where the barbarians around him seemed to take to another strategy and Yuri couldn't figure out what that was. The man he was facing was poor with the sword in his hands at best, so while easily blocking every strike the barbarian tried to throw the alpha's way whole his thoughts furiously thought of possible explanations to the sudden change in battle tactics.

The answer came too late to the young ruler. 

Eyes widening at the realization, Yuri dispatched of the man he was fighting and turned around too little too late. The enemy had successfully pushed past him, leaving Yuri dangerously isolated from his men, invaders on all sides and they were closing in fast and all together. Licking his lips, Yuri tightened his grip on his sword. The chances of him making it back to the line of his soldiers and past the dozens of barbarians that were around him alive were so unbelievably low, Yuri felt it in his heart that this would be his last battle.

But he be damned if he was going to go down without a fight.

Roaring as loud as his lungs let him, Yuri rushed at the closest enemy, slicing him across the chest and kicking him over, blood spraying everywhere. Yuri immediately turned to the next opponent, the older man getting a few seconds before he was too met with Death. The alpha didn't stop, didn't cease, only pushed his body harder to try his best to get back to the line of soldiers who had now realized that the enemy had separated their emperor from them and that he was in danger. 

Yuri felt the swords of the barbarians around him cut his flesh, but none of the hits were any more than glancing and he didn't let it slow him. The tall blond was only a few meters from the respite that his men could give him, and he decided on one last final push. He could do this. 

Slicing, stabbing, cutting, Yuri wadded his way through the men in front of him, but they kept coming closer and the injuries he was receiving kept getting deeper, slowing him down and sapping his strength. When the invaders closed a full circle around the emperor, he felt a grim sense of fate overtake him as he gazed at the dozen swords pointing, the ends not even a half a meter from his body. This was it. This was where his story ends. Would his people survive? Who would take over and rule in his place? Yuri decided that even if he didn't approve of the thought of a snobby noble ruling in his throne, Yuri knew that it didn't matter. He would be dead in moments. 

The desperate cries of his men reached the young alpha's ears, and he swallowed the lump in his throat, sparing them a glance. They were throwing themselves at the invaders, minutes from reaching Yuri's side, but they would be too late. The familiar helm of his best friend Otabek upon his warhorse was galloping towards Yuri at a fast and reckless pace, but like his men, Yuri knew that he would never make it in time.

He would die alone, away from his countrymen, and it terrified him.

Yuri returned his attention back to the barbarians around him, gazing at their snarling expressions. The blond raised his sword and picked out the man he would lunge for, but never got the chance, sharp metal impaling itself into his body from behind. Yuri gasped and looked down at the point of a sword sticking out of his abdomen, coated in a thick, dripping sheet of blood. Yuri fell to his knees, numbness spreading through his body. Faintly, the sounds of battle reached his ears, but it was if he was hearing it while underwater. His vision swam. His body crumpled against the dirt and as large crimson stain spread itself from the major wound he had suffered. 

Gasping for breath, Yuri looked up at the sky, searching for something beautiful to be the last thing that he will see in this life, praying silently to the gods.

_Please, let my people live on without me. Let them thrive and be able to pick themselves up from the loss of losing their emperor yet again. Please...._

Yuri would have added more, but his consciousness was fading, and he couldn't continue the plead. His last thoughts were of how he was afraid to die. Honestly and truly, he was afraid of what came next after this life, and only hoped that his parents would be there to greet him. 

And slowly, like molasses, a lead enveloped his limbs, rendering him unable to move them, along with a buzzing in his ears overtaking everything until it was all he could hear. The black at the edge of his vision grew and Yuri let out one last trembling breath before the inky-blackness swallowed him whole. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .....oh god why do I do this to you all


	5. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, we're going to get into Yuuri's head, but I am warning you guys that Yuuri is a little messed up in the head right now from his experiences, so I guess there might be some sensitive stuff in here? Not really sure, but it's deep and was a bit emotionally painful to write so I guess if you don't like that stuff than don't read

At first, Yuuri was only aware of the simplest things that were able to pierce the veil of unconsciousness and pain that had settled over him. A hand on his forehead here, unintelligible hushed tones there. Some times he would be a little more aware than normal, just enough to tell that he was desperately close to dying. 

Although, the worst part was not the intense pain but the nightmares. They were constant and of everything that he had experienced. On a sick and twisted loop of memories Yuuri relived everything from his past. He watched as his home burned to the ground, his parents screaming for him to run, and being caught by the General. The endless physical pain that had enveloped him as he grew up with the same invaders that killed his family and destroyed his village. When he had presented a year ago, the two heats he had because of it, all of the times that they raped him and forced Yuuri to complete any sexual deed that they wanted just because he was an omega. Every. Single. Time. After that, he would witness in his mind's eye as Phichit fell to the ground, arrow buried in his chest, the darker-skinned man's last words echoing in his head and red blood seeming to stain his very consciousness, a silent scream ringing. All the terror, all the pain, surfacing to haunt him further. 

He had a few moments of respite, those times when he hurtled over the edge of the living, only to be brought back later. At least then his demons seemed to leave him alone. 

The few times that he had semi-consciousness were at night, and he knew this because while he hadn't been able to muster up the strength to lift his eyelids, he could hear the soft breathing of another soul a few feet away and the chirping of crickets outside. It was then when he pondered his whereabouts, but there was no really way for Yuuri to even guess his location. He had blacked out soon after the attack on the barbarian camp broke out, after Phichit had....died....after the General had swung him up onto the man's massive shoulder in Yuuri's stupor of watching his only friend _dying_. His memory stopped at the feeling of frigid waters consuming him, his head slamming against a rock, and sudden arms wrapping themselves around his waist and hauling him up. 

Yuuri did, however, rack his brains to try and figure out  _who_ he was with, and who had rescued him. He knew that he wasn't with the barbarians--or anyone like them for that matter--but that didn't really narrow his options. There was an innumerable possibility of groups Yuuri could be imprisoned by right now, but at least they seemed to have a slightly higher set or morals than his previous captors. These new people had exhibited concern for Yuuri's well being, though Yuuri wasn't sure why they would bother. Wasn't it obvious that it would only take a tiny push before he was dead? Why would they waste supplies and time on him? Why were they being so....what was the word? Nice. Yes, that's what it was. It had been a while since someone besides Phichit was nice to him.

Oh gods....Phichit....

It was sudden, the overwhelming grief that crashed over Yuuri and completely took over his mind. The man was so kind, so considerate and respectful of Yuuri. He was always there, always protecting, always caring. Gods, it made Yuuri's entire body hurt and drawing breath in much harder than normal. Why was it Phichit that was injured? Why wasn't it him? He was much less as a person than Phichit was or ever would be. Yuuri was an omega, a whore, bitch, and ungrateful bastard that only made anything he touched worse; he was a disappointment in the terms of life. And who was Phichit? He was the most pure, innocent, beautiful soul that Yuuri had ever had the privilege to meet. If it wasn't for Yuuri screwing up things like usual Phichit could have taken care of himself, left Yuuri to burn in the hut that they shared like he should have. He could have been the one saved by those strong hands.

But alas, Yuuri was still here in his whole miserable, disgraceful self, drowning in guilt and Phichit was still sadly gone from this world too soon.

Yuuri was starting to feel better if only a tiny bit when he felt himself being moved, onto a wagon, the smell of a horse and the scratchy feeling of hay under his back and head. From the rustle of the hay, he knew that a few other people boarded the wagon and but only one sat next to him and placed a wet cloth on his forehead. The coolness of the material felt divine on his feverish skin and he felt his body relax. There were people speaking, but Yuuri couldn't quite make out the words, only their urgent and hushed tones. Then, the others felt, leaving Yuuri with his unknown companion. The wagon lurched and then they were moving, to only the gods know where, probably further and further from everything that Yuuri has ever known.

The whole trip was uncomfortable and hot, Yuuri sweating under the sweltering air that was trapped under the bonnet of the wagon and the hay failing in it's supposed job to cushion the constant jostling, but it was certainly better than any other treatment he had experienced back with the barbarians so he wasn't about to complain. Yuuri continued to fade in and out of consciousness, but every time that he would wrestle back to semi-consciousness it was for a shorter and shorter period of time, the intervals of darkness becoming more and more frequent, the nightmares becoming even more hellish than before, his mind now twisting the events and details.

Although, Yuuri found out that once the tiny bits of medicine that he was being given ran out, he would wish for how it was before. Locked in a state of semi-consciousness, Yuuri wasn't able to properly rest and it was if his whole body was simultaneously set on fire and doused in ice. Everything ached and hurt and throbbed, his head was about to explode, and trying to draw in a breath was like attempting to win a battle against the most skilled swordsman with no training: impossible. And so Yuuri was limp in the arms of a stranger, trying to gasp for oxygen but only receiving a trickle of air, the sensation of Death himself waiting in the shadows to steal away Yuuri's soul and drag him down to the deepest pits of hell. It was terrifying and while Yuuri was no stranger to near-death experiences--having being beaten within an inch of life on more than one occasion--but this waiting and  _pain_ was unbearable because he didn't even know what was  _wrong with him._

He was dying, there was no way around it. Yuuri had survived a lot of things over the years but he could not overcome this.

It was weird. Yuuri didn't want to die, not at all. He wanted to live and run, find an area away from everyone else and live out the rest of his days in peace, littered with tiny adventures and a problem here or there, maybe even find someone to share it with, though it wouldn't be love between he and his supposed companion for love did not exist, only selfish need and mutual friendship on occasion. Yes, he wanted life, though he did not deserve to live he wanted to feel the warmth of dawn on his face, the coldness of snow on his feet, and all of the other small pleasures in life, but here he was, giving up and wallowing in self-pity instead of fighting. Pathetic, like him. How suiting. 

Yuuri was slightly aware of hands lifting him, the whoosh of air racing past him and shouting voices drenched with concern and worry. When did the wagon stop? No matter, actually, nothing would matter soon. Death was circling closer and closer to him, and Yuuri didn't fight the lead weighting down his limps to the point of not even being able to feel his extremities, nor the buzzing in his ears drowning out the talk of the people around him. He was being put down on something soft, hands forcing his mouth open, a vile smelling substance shoved into his mouth, his body involuntarily gagging.

_Enough! I'm going to die so let me die in peace!_

But his shout was only echoed in his skull, unheard by those around him, and it didn't matter. He was dying, dying, dying, the life flowing out of his body, unable to hear, see, touch, taste, hell even hear. It was an ominous nothing surrounding him, and he surrendered to it willingly, if unhappily.

* * *

Yuuri was floating. Was he in heaven? Was that why he felt like he was on a cloud, nothing but softness around him completely? But that would not make sense, for he deserved to rot in hell for his miserable existence. The ache came a moment later, abrupt and intense, blind sighting him and forcing a gasp of agony from his lips. A scuffle of feet and then there were soft hands holding his shoulders to keep him from trying to struggle to an upright position, though he doubted that he would even have the strength.

"Hey, it's okay, you're safe here, relax."

_Safe._

What a disgustingly false word if there was any. There is no safety, no way to protect yourself in this world, there were only victims and those that take advantage of the weak. Predator and prey. Alpha and omega. No matter how you looked at it, safety was just an illusion to help some people sleep at night and Yuuri did not appreciate the lie because he was  _not_ safe, he  _could not_ be safe. Ever.

One of the hands migrated to his forehead and pushed back his sweaty hair. Assaulted by memories of how his mother used to do the gesture in the  _exact same_ way as this stranger, Yuuri gasped, and the person next to Yuuri took it as a sign of pain, which it was, just not physical. The hand still on Yuuri's shoulders shifted upwards and before Yuuri could register what was happening, there were two fingers rubbing gently on the scent gland on his neck. In the back of Yuuri's consciousness he knew that alphas and betas would massage an omega's neck scent gland to sooth the omega, but that did not matter because it was a gesture that Yuuri was familiar with, and as he knew it, it was  _not_ for comforting an omega, but for torture when he disobeyed. Yuuri flinched away from the touch with all of the limited strength he possessed and stifled a scream. 

The hands darted away and through the sound of blood rushing through his ears, Yuuri was able to detect a lower, accented, more masculine voice that was much different from the first, more feminine one.

"Okay, he obviously doesn't like that."

"But don't all omega's like it when their scent glands get rubbed?"

"You're sure that he is an omega? Not just a strong beta?"

"Positive. His scent is way to exotic to be a beta's, dulled as it is with his illness, and the scent glands on the insides of his thighs are a dead give-away since none of the other secondary genders have them."

"Okay....let's try something else."

There was the shuffle of feet that Yuuri didn't pay much attention to since he was trying to calm his racing heart and suppress the sudden horrible memories that washed over him. Then fingers slowly carding themselves through his hair. Faintly, Yuuri could detect the smell of an alpha, but it was laced with a softness that Yuuri's body instinctively accepted and categorized as non-threatening.

"Yes, that's it little one, relax. You gave us quite the scare, there; you almost died. It's rumored that his majesty himself took an interest in a prisoner of war he saved from a barbarian camp. Knowing little Yurio, I was a little surprised, but now I think that I understand. Do you think you can open your eyes for me, chéri?"

Yuuri didn't quite know what to think, but honey-like voice, so low and sweet, made opening his eyes when he wanted nothing more than sleep sound so compelling that he made an effort to force the leaden weights over his eyes open with a massive amount of will, wincing at the sudden assault of light on his pupils. Slowly, so slowly, Yuuri opened his eyes more and more until he was gazing at the two strangers with half-lidded eyes.

"Ah, there we go! Much better!" 

The voice belonged to a man with large, expressive, kind green eyes and a sharp jaw line, stubble on his chin and just under his nose. The sides of his head were shaved close to his skull and a rich brown while the top shaggy and a golden blond. A young woman stood behind him with long, black, straight hair framing her face and eyes that were nearly violet in the light. Her skin was naturally tanned, her body curvy. They both looked nice enough, but Yuuri had learned to not judge by appearances long ago. She put her hand on Yuuri's forehead and he was starting to feel a little claustrophobic with all of the attention, but she backed up almost immediately, turning to leave. 

"I'll be back, I have to go get him something to try and break that fever."

The man kneeling next to the bed and therefore Yuuri just nodded and kept stroking Yuuri's head, staring at the younger. When the woman left, he spoke again.

"My name is Christophe Giacometti, but you can call me Chris like everyone else. Do you know who you are?"

The all-too familiar siren call of sleep had started to overtake Yuuri, but the question rejuvenated his mind and forced him to focus. 

"Y-Yuuri." His voice was raspy and dry from unuse but he was able to speak, and the small victory felt amazing.

Chris raised an eyebrow at his answer and a smile quirked at his lips.

"Yuuri, huh? What a coincidence. That makes you the second Yuri I know, and frankly, I've found that the one Yuri I already know is a handful...." Chris continued talking, but Yuuri stopped really listening. Yuuri wasn't sure about what this man Chris was saying, but his babbling was strangely comforting and welcomed, distracting Yuuri from the all-over pain. In what seemed like no time, the woman came back, a bowl and cloth in hand and a smile on her face.

"I'm glad that you are still awake; I'm surprised that Chris hasn't bored you to death by now." she said with a teasing grin and the man Chris placed his free hand on his chest, a mock expression of hurt on his features.

"Sara, you wound me."

The woman--Sara, Chris said?--rolled her eyes and walked around to the side of the bed not occupied with Chris, placing the wet cloth on Yuuri's head and like before, it was just as heavenly as Yuuri remembered. With gentle coaxing, he opened his mouth and allowed her to place a few leaves there. When he bit down, there was a sudden minty flavor that seemed to completely overtake his senses for a moment.

"My name is Sara Crispino, and I've been taking care of you since you came back from the village."

"W-where....." Yuuri's voice cracked and died at the end, but Sara seemed to get his question.

"You're in St. Petersburg, the capital."

Yuuri was sure that he had not heard that right. First of all, there was no way they Yuuri was back in his home empire, and there was certainly no way that he was actually in the capital. Opening his mouth to voice his question of  _how,_ but his voice didn't cooperate. Luckily, Sara was already starting to explain at the sight of his dumbstruck expression.

"You were rescued from the barbarian camp and by a group of army men. They took you with them back to the main camp where the whole army is stationed, and the doctor I am assisted to and I looked after you for about two weeks until it became evident that we couldn't treat you with the supplies we had at the camp. The doctor I work with couldn't leave, but since I am only an apprentice, I came with you so you could get through the journey to the capital where you could get the medicines you need. That itself took about nine days because we had one horse, and you nearly died a few times trying to recuperate you when we finally arrived. You've slept, completely unresponsive and barely breathing for about four days now. Chris here and my brother, Michele, have been helping me care for you."

Yuuri's head was spinning, and he was sure that it wasn't in a good way. Army? Capital? Rescued? None of it made any sense, but then again, the whole world had been shifting in and out of focus for the past ten minutes, so he wasn't going to be surprised is he now found out that he was hearing things. The hand in his hair changed patterns, which really wasn't helping his situation of trying to stay awake. He wanted to talk to these strangers. He didn't want to sleep.

"He's about to pass out again, Sara." 

"That's fine, let him sleep, he certainly needs the rest."

Eyes falling shut, Yuuri clung to his consciousness for a few more seconds of clarity, but it wasn't enough and before he knew it, he was settled back into a deep slumber, the feeling of those fingers still on his scalp.

* * *

Pain.

Nothing else, just pain.

It was all-consuming and took over every thought that he had. Honestly, he would have thought he was dead of it wasn't the extreme and utter torment that his body was feeling, all of it flowing back to the route of his physical suffering: his abdomen. 

Yuri didn't know how much time had passed since he was stabbed, nor much else besides the vaguest information concerning himself. He knew his name, the names of his parents, his age....and nothing else. All of the knowledge that he had known before was lost, forgotten, unneeded in his struggle over life and death. He recalled voices that have been telling him to hold on, to keep fighting, but he really didn't need to be told. 

Yuri let out a scream of pure agony as he felt hands on his body, on his wound. 

_Stop it goddamnit! That fucking hurts!_

But whoever was with him kept going and Yuri kept screaming, the blackness of unconsciousness growing larger, and larger. Soon enough, he was blacking out from the sheer titanic amount of pain assaulting his senses, but he fought the whole time, he would keep fighting, because he was Yuri Pilsetsky goddamnit and he never goes down without a fight. 

If he was going to die, then he was going to make sure that Death had to drag his soul down to hell the hard way, kicking and screaming the whole damn time and making sure that that soul-stealing bastard didn't forget him anytime soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that was a lot darker than I planned, but go Yuri go! Kick death's ass!
> 
> chéri---sweetheart in French


	6. Otabek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THE BEGINNING OF THIS IS GOING TO BE KINDA GRAPHIC AND NOT FOR PEOPLE THAT ARE SENSITIVE TO RAPE. I WILL BE CUTTING THE SCENE SHORT AND LEAVE OUT PARTS, BUT SKIP THE ITALIC PARTS IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ IT. YOU WILL NOT MISS ANYTHING MAJOR.
> 
> Also, I'm not going to lie to you guys, this chapter is going to be heavy, both emotionally and mentally.

_It was dark, smoke and the stench of booze hung in the air, thick. He was in pain, but from how it was slightly dulled, Yuuri knew that it was just from before. He was scared. No, that wasn't the right word. Terrified. Utterly terrified for his being._

_"What are you still doing in that rag that you call clothing, whore? Do we need to fucking tell you how this works again?" a voice demanded of him. He knew the owner of the gruff voice. One of the barbarians._

_Hastily, Yuuri threw the cloth from his body, not even bothering to cover up his naked form, for he knew that it would only make things worse for him if he did that. Rough hands yanked his limps, tying them together with course ropes and then hauling him closer to the fire, bound like a pig ready to be roasted. There were chuckles and obnoxious catcalls coming at him from all sides, but he tried his best to ignore them without avail. Then the hands were back, forcing him to be still as an alpha unhinged his jaw and forced Yuuri to take his hard length. Yuuri was disgusted. He felt dirty and vile, like with every second that passed he was sinking deeper and deeper within himself and his pain._

_"Yeah, bitch." the man said before yanking his cock out. Yuuri heard the shuffle of feet against the ground and he started to panic, finally his self-preservation causing him to struggle because he **knew** what that meant, and god all he wanted to do was to get away, go home, but there was no home. Not now, not ever again. Rough blows to his head and back and harsh words rained down, but that did not stop Yuuri. He needed to get out, get away, he needed to-_

_Yuuri cried out as the blinding pain erupted from his ass, the barbarian not bothering to prep his hole or go slowly, immediately going at a brutal pace. Tears streamed down his face and the other men laughed at his misery, insults rearing their ugly heads. Yuuri gasped and cried, pleading for them to stop, to please, **please** let him go, but they fell of deaf ears._

_"What are you doing, working yourself up already, you fucking cunt?" A kick to the ribs. "We've barely even started."_

Yuuri's eyes flew open, not registering anything but the fear of the nightmare, and  _screamed._

* * *

Otabek growled, low and ominous in his throat. He was pacing back and forth--had been for over three hours now--waiting desperately for a shred of good news about Yuri. The doctors, however, would only have assistants race in and out of the room to dispose of bloody cloths and medical instruments, returning with a new supply, faces grim. Of course, they new nothing other than the instructions that the doctors had given them, so they were useless to Otabek.

A piercing scream echoed from behind the doors, and Otabek felt his heart ache.

Yuri, his best friend and emperor, who Otabek had known all for his whole life, was dying. Otabek remembered when he had first met the younger alpha. Because he was the son on a powerful noble and close friend to the late emperor, Otabek had seen the heir to the empire a mere few days after he was born. He had been so small and tiny, fuzzy blond hair on his head, waving his fists around and fussing. Otabek had just barely been two, and when the baby had started to whine, he had reacted out of impulse, reaching down into the crib and offering his finger to the infant, who took it immediately and squeezed it with all five of his own miniature fingers, looking up at the toddler with wide, green eyes.

Otabek was there all of Yuri's life after that moment, as was the blond always in his. The older alpha was there when Yuri first picked up a sword, the first time he rode a horse, the same day that Yuri graduated from Battle school, every scrape and broken bone. Otabek had been there when the blond had lost his parents to murder, seeing first-hand the raw emotional  _pain_ that Yuri had endured. Watched as the war slowly consumed the same boy that had once laughed without a care in the world. It was torture on the older man to see his friend wear himself out so thin in such a short period of time, trying to take on the extra work that he could to spare the young emperor stress. 

And now, years later but seemingly only moments, Otabek was powerless as the person that he cared for most outside of his family was in terrible terrible pain, and there was nothing that he could do about it besides  _wait._ No, that wasn't right, Yuri  _was_ family, there was no way around it. A little brother that Otabek desperately wanted to protect, a best friend and colleague, an essential part of his life that Otabek never thought he wanted but now knew that he needed.

At another scream, he clenched his jaw and punched the nearby wall out of sheer frustration. When he had seen his blond friend fall in battle those fateful days ago, he had abandoned all reason so he could make it to Yuri. He remembered the murderous rage that had suffused itself with him from the sight of the young alpha laying motionless on the ground, sword point sticking out of his body, red blood gushing. Otabek had slaughtered all of them, every single one of the barbarians that had surrounded Yuri within moments. He had rushed Yuri to camp and Mila, who had taken one look at the wounded man--hell, he was barely old enough to be called a man--and her face shut down into a cold and expressionless mask, immediately ordering for their departure to the nearest city, which had ironically been the capital.

They had taken a whole team of horses, riding through the night at a brutal pace, switching out the horses with fresh ones picked up at passing villages as often as possible. By some miracle, they had arrived at the capital within four days, Yuri hours away from the full grasp of that devil named Death. Mila had taken him instantly to the nearest doctor, sending for the other most experienced doctors in the city to help.

There was so much blood stained on the wagon that they had used to transport the unconscious emperor, it haunted Otabek when he closed his eyes and felt the phantom, sticky substance on his palms even after he had washed them. The guilt was going to kill him. If he had only been a little bit faster, a little more skilled with his sword, a little more-

"Otabek?"

Mila's voice, tired and raspy from the no sleep in the past few days broke the stream of curses that he was aiming at himself. He turned to face the beta woman, not even bothering to try to conceal his emotions. He was anxious, he was scared, he was lost. Otabek had been waiting for this ever since Yuri had disappeared from his sight and into that room. The ultimatum. Either Mila was coming to tell him that Yuri was alright, that he would live, or, something else, much more sinister and depressing. Even though it was like signing his own death certificate, he rushed over.

"Yes?"

* * *

 When Yuuri regained consciousness again, the pain was there, just as intense, and just as overwhelming, a constant burden that he was sure would crush him. It was still dark, and honestly, Yuuri doubted that much time had passed. The gods would not be that merciful on his bastard soul.

Chris, who had heard his last scream and stayed with the omega until he was sleep again, was gone, but it did not cause Yuuri any sorrow. He knew that the alpha would have bolted as soon as he had the chance. He knew that these people were not doing this out of the kindness of their hearts, and they would want something in return. Yuuri would pay when the time came, yes, but for now, if they wanted to pretend that all was fine, then that was their delusion, not Yuuri's. 

His thoughts drifted back to the cause of his restlessness. It was strange. Not in all of the years that he had been imprisoned with those barbarians, he had never had these nightmares of the things that he had experienced. It was sort of ironic. He was now away from the people that had caused his initial torment and most of them were dead, but they still had their claws deep in Yuuri's mind if not his body. The images that had been playing in his mind's eye resurfaced, the terror that he felt palpable in his mouth. The words thrown at him like a blow of a sword, the men, the vile feeling of being violated over and over again-

Yuuri wanted to climb out of bed and find the nearest bathroom because he could feel the vomit making it's way up his throat from the nightmare that had plagued him, but his limbs were still too weak to lift a glass of water to his lips, so the young omega just about managed to lean over the side of the bed, spilling his previous, small meal onto the floor instead of the bed. Gasping, out of breath and chest heavy, Yuuri rolled back onto the fluffy pillow, throat scratchy and dry, a bitter taste on his tongue. 

He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't keep up with this constant sickness that would seem to be better only to worsen the next day. He couldn't take the crushing guilt of how Phichit had died trying to save his worthless ass, or the thought of how much he had suffered so far. Unfortunately for Yuuri, his company was too skilled, so he was no longer on Death's door, but actually a ways away. It looked like he would have to carry his chains for a while longer. He closed his eyes and willed back the tears that threatened, so sick of crying and wallowing in self-pity. Was that all that he was good for? Crying? Wailing about how it was far and that he wanted out of the obvious punishment on his soul?

As Yuuri stared up at the dark ceiling, he became lost in thought. 

His mother had told him that the gods did everything for a reason. Every blessing was for something that they did that deserved reward, every forfeiture given for a wrongdoing that a person has committed. So laying in a bed that was too soft to be believable and blankly looking at a foreign ceiling, Yuuri wondered if he had sinned profusely in a past life. Had he been a murderer? Revolutionist? An evil, wicked man that terrorized all that came too close? He certainly did wonder, but at least he could disregard a different teaching about how suffering will be rewarded, for he knew that there would be no light in his future. Yuuri only wished that he knew what he had done to cast his soul into damnation. 

He obviously did not deserve to live--was was worth much less than nothing--but if the gods willed for him to experience this heart-wrenching pain of living longer, than Yuuri was going to serve his time. He would heal his body, repay the people he had to thank for saving his miserable existence, and then try to not be such an utter fuck-up. Try to repair his soul as much as he could, which honestly didn't look like he could even try to save it. It was already too dark and corrupted. 

He would survive. He would live on, even if it was from sheer determination. 

* * *

Otabek collapsed against the wall, crying. He had early on adapted the art of concealing his emotions, but now he did not care enough to keep up the act. Mila crouched down and wrapped her arms around the shaking alpha. Her hands, arms, and shirt was stained with crimson, but Otabek did not notice.

Yuri was alive.

Yuri was breathing.

Yuri wasn't going to die.

Otabek had never felt so thankful, so utterly blessed by the gods than when Mila had told him that yes, Yuri will be fine. He's going to live, even if his recovery was going to take a while. Honestly he could care less about the recovery time, so focused he was on the fact that  _Yuri was alive._

"Otabek, I'm going to have to go back to Yuri, so we can get him back to the palace, okay? Will you be alright if I go?"

He hastily nodded. No, he would be fine by himself, even if he was shaken now. Right now Yuri needed Mila a hell of a lot more than Otabek did right now, so he was more than alright with the red-headed doctor leaving. He felt Mila's arms leave and stand up, heard her steps leading away from him, the door closing and latching shut. He concentrated on breathing, in and out, in and out, in and out. He needed to calm down, but the sheer amount of adrenaline racing through his veins was like a drug preventing him from evening his breath.

Eventually though, eventually he was able to stop the tears of immense relief and stand on shaky legs, still heavily leaning against the wall for support. A few moments later, the double doors banged open and all of the people once inside spilled out. Assistants and servants and doctors alike, but Otabek's eyes had narrowed in on the horribly pale, deathly-still figure laying on a stretcher, blond hair falling unusually limp. And Otabek might have started to cry again at the sight if it wasn't for the small rise and fall of his best friend's chest.  _Breathing. He's breathing._

Upon Mila's beckoning, Otabek fell right in line with her, putting his hands on the stretcher and relieving the other make doctor from the job, who walked away with a nod. Carefully, they maneuvered the unconscious ruler so that he was laying on top of the fabric of the stretcher in the wagon, he and Mila sitting on either side. This was a different wagon than before, so the floor was not covered in a thick coat of blood. Vaguely he felt the wagon kick into motion, but he was too busy watching carefully over his friend. Nothing else would happen to him.

"You know, I wasn't worried that he would die." Mila said, breaking the silence abruptly. He glanced at the red-headed woman, giving her a look. Was she mad? Did she not feel concern for her friend?

"I mean," she started to explain, "we both know Yura. He's completely headstrong. If Death thought that it was strong enough to take our little tiger it found out the had way that Yuri would only kick his ass." She smiled affectionately, running her fingers through the blond locks quickly. It was a gesture that she did often, especially when they were kids. Otabek found himself silently agreeing with her. Yuri would have--and probably did--defeat Death out of sheer stubbornness.

The rest of the journey to the emperor's palace was short and passed in undisturbed silence, which Otabek was grateful for. When they had finally arrived, he helped Mila take the injured blond up to his quarters before being ushered out on the first occasion by the beta.

"Let him sleep in peace the rest of the day and you can visit him tomorrow. Knowing Yuri he'll already be struggling to consciousness by then, and I'm sure that he'll love the company. You need some rest to beka, doctor's orders."

Mila liked to pull that "doctor's orders" bullshit ever since she started her apprenticeship as a medical personnel, and it only got worse when she completed it. Regardless, Otabek still left and headed down to the kitchens. He knew that she said it like a joke, but meant it, and he agreed wholeheartedly. He knew that right now he could do nothing for his best friend and sitting at the side of a bed would do nobody good, and harm his health. Otabek also knew that Yuri was a fighter and it would not surprise the older alpha in the slightest if the blond managed to return to the land of the living a mere 24 hours after being brought back from the edge of death. That was just the nature of Yuri Pilsetsky.

Otabek found his way down to the kitchen, the plan of the palace not confusing him in the slightest even though due to the war he hadn't been here in a few years. No, he had been here so much as a child he was sure that no lot of time could ever dull the memories and understanding he had of this place. Some of the servants that knew him waved or called out their greetings, and he responded curtly and politely, but it was forced and a little robotic; he was too lost in his thoughts.

So the older alpha found himself alone in one of the side rooms, a mug of the least-potent beer he could find. His mind was reeling, but he wasn't quite sure what about, thoughts flying too fast for him to even discern what they were about. Otabek wasn't sure how long he had sat and nursed his mug of beer, but through the window across from him he could see that the sky was now black instead of the light blue that it had been when he first entered the tiny room.

He heard the newcomer enter the room with him, but did not turn, the footfalls too casual to be a threat and too purposeful to be a servant.

"Otabek," a masculine voice said, and he recognized it. 

"Chris." he grunted when the other alpha sat down next to him. He was familiar with the blond alpha, and while they might not have been overly close, they were decent enough friends and got along quite well. Chris was a little older than the last time that Otabek had seen him, so his features were sharper, more pronounced, his form taller and more muscular. The time had certainly done Christophe good, looking much more attractive than before. The other sighed, taking a sip from the liquid in his cup. 

"How have you been?" Chris asked, his face unnaturally serious.

"I've been better."

"And the war?"

This time Otabek was the one to let out a deep sigh before continuing. 

"Hell. Pure hell. They aren't breaking as far as I can see, and while I know that Yuri won't let it go until he sees it to the bitter and bloody end, the barbarians are too focused on concurring us to even accept our diplomacy. It's exhausting in every mean you can think of: mentally, emotionally, physically, economically, and the list just goes on and on. I wish they never invaded us to begin with." Otabek took a hard swig of his beer, the mug clinking against the table when he put it back down.

The thing about Chris was that while some would describe him as silly and overzealous more times than not, he was much smarter than he let on. While he might have been throwing jokes around, he was keeping an ear on every other conversation, absorbing every bit of information he could like a sponge and filing it away for future use. He was also loyal to a tee, and Otabek would trust the other alpha with his life on any given basis. Also uncommon knowledge, Chris was actually quite good with a sword in his hands and magnificent in hand-to-hand combat. Although while most men like him were in the army, fighting against the barbarians, Chris was in the palace, managing all of the nobles and preventing any possible treason from jealous lords wanting the throne.

So even though Christophe didn't say a word in acknowledgement and most would take it as a sign of boredom, stupidity, or lack of attention, Otabek knew that the other man's mind was working at a kilometer-per-minute and he was offering silent support, letting the lack of words go for the appropriate time before speaking.

"I saw the arrival of our Yura. How is he?"

"Alive. I'm not sure about specifics--for that you'd have to ask Mila--but I know that he is going to be here recuperating for a while, rebuilding his strength and healing his body. He lost a lot of blood and is unconscious right now, but if I know Yuri than he'll pull through before anyone expects him too." Otabek drowned the rest of his beer with one gulp after he finished his piece, eyes flicking to the window. "What have you been up to since I last saw you, Chris?"

"Oh you know," Chris said, running a hand through his hair and reaching over, pouring half of his own drink in Otabek's cup. "The same old boring work. Intimidate this noble back into line, threaten this lord over there, it just gets so _assommant_." Chis despaired, slipping into his native tongue. "Although, these past few days have  _certainly_ been my kind of exciting."

Otabek raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of the mysterious liquid that Chris had given him. It was sweet, but also bitter, a slight fruit aftertaste and the alcohol in it just barely noticeable if you were not actively looking for it. Wine.

"We have a new guest, an omega by the judgement of Sara. He's quite good-looking and excellent company and polite too, not even interrupting my babbling."

"But?" Otabek had a very good guess as to who Chris was referring to.

"But he's scared of his own shadow. Honestly and truly I have never seen someone so thoroughly  _terrified_ of something, and I don't even know what he's scared of."

"Yuri and I had taken a team of men to dispose of a barbarian camp, and we found two people who looked like prisoners. One of them was dead upon our discovery, but the other one was alive, and when Yuri found him, was in the process of being carried off by the General himself. When we brought him back to camp, he was nearly dead from what I understood was sickness, but then again I was never told the specifics. All I know is that he and Sara left the camp about two weeks ago for more advanced medical attention."

Chris nodded, a thoughtful and serious expression on his face. He was silent for a number of minutes, deep in thought.

"A prisoner, you say? Interesting. I though that the barbarians were known for killing everyone in their pathway?"

"You're right, they are. Yuri and I puzzled over it for quite the while. Still haven't found the answer."

"Do you think it is because he's an omega?"

The question was sudden, and the words were like a sucker punch to the stomach, making Otabek nearly spit out the sip of wine that he had in his mouth. All of the sudden, he didn't feel like finishing is drink, pushing the mug forward and away from casual reach.

What Christophe was implying was rape. And while Otabek's opinion of the barbarians were already low, he had seen the boy, and he was that. A boy. He couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen years old, but as Otabek pondered it, he realized that it was logical. The boy was an omega--and also a male one at that--so he was already supposedly the best sexual partner just because of his secondary gender. It was common for rich nobles to have an omega on the side to fuck, but it was unheard of for regular folks to be able to get their hands on an omega, which only left then to wonder what it would be like, and therefore, make the stories just that much more enticing. 

"I've been around him for these past few days and I will tell you that it has not been pretty. First off, his bruises and cuts are horrible, and it takes every ounce of willpower that I have not to stare at them while I am with the boy. He jumps if you move too fast and is obviously distressed from a casual touch--the only thing that he doesn't seem to mind is when I drag my fingers through his hair." Chris frowned at the table. "He has nightmares. God awful nightmares that leave him screaming in terror in the midst of night and usually won't rest again for the best of the night. His most recent one was last night, early on, and I doubt that he got a wink of proper sleep. He was so tired this morning, I was surprised when he didn't pass out. He's so young...." Chris trialed off.

Otabek swallowed thickly, feeling sick to his stomach. The thoughts that were flashing through his head were horrible and he would not wish it one any of his worst enemies. He couldn't even imagine what the young boy had gone through, let alone at such a young age. Otabek would not be surprised if his experiences left a horrific emotional and mental wound that would take years to mend. 

"You can see it in his eyes, the broken parts I mean. Plain as day."

Otabek was staring hard at a knot in the wood of the table to keep his mind from wandering too much. He knew that getting lost in thought was dangerous more times than not, so he avoided that pathway as best as he could. Otabek stood. 

"I think I'm going to go to bed, Chris. Goodnight."

Chris gave him a smile, but it was a bit strained and Otabek knew that the conversation that they had had was heavy in the other alpha's heart as well.

"Goodnight, Otabek. We'll see each other in the morning."

Otabek's body knew the way to the room that he normally claimed as his own, taking him there while his thoughts were sluggish and flowed aimlessly. He was nearly there, just another hallway over when his eye caught the crack of an open door and a figure on the bed. It was really his curiosity that got the best of him for he didn't think that in all of his years of wandering the halls of the palace did he once see that particular room in use. So Otabek walked over on quiet feet and slipped inside, leaving the door unlatched but closed behind him.

On the bed was a still figure, seeming to drown in the sheets and pillows heaped on the mattress, small and thin.

It was the boy.

Otabek's breath hitched when he came closer and saw the state of the figure up closer. There were dark circles that looked more like bruises under his closed eyes, features sunken and too sharp due to his unhealthy body weight. The night-black hair was messily pushed out of his face, lips cracked and swollen, complexion too unnaturally pale. If it wasn't for the tiny, ragged sound of the other breathing Otabek would have thought that he was staring at a dead body.

_Gods, he looks even worse than Yura._

Abruptly, tears started to streak down the boy's face, and Otabek felt alarm latch itself into him. Was he having another nightmare like Chris had mentioned? Should Otabek wake him?

The boy snapped his eyes open and let out a small gasp of what sounded like pain, but Otabek still didn't make a move, seemingly paralyzed in the presence of this mysterious figure. The boy noticed Otabek and looked over, capturing the alpha's gaze. This time, Otabek was the one that gasped. Chris was right. You could see it. There was broken glass in his eyes, a pain so deep that Otabek was sure that it went further than anything else. It hurt Otabek himself to look at the anguish so evident in someone so young, and for the second time that day, Otabek was reminded of when Yuri's parents were murdered, but this was worse than the first time. 

The boy didn't say a word, only looked on with his dead eyes, and Otabek in turn did not break the delicate silence, tension in the air. Slowly, without breaking the eye contact, Otabek backed out of the room, and shut the door, this time latching it after he exited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a little later than when I usually update!
> 
> Anyways, I know that this chapter was really heavy, but I wish for all of you to think about how everything always gets worse before they get better! Next chapter I am planing on getting the Yuri's to meet (finally), but I am going to be really busy this weekend, so I cannot guarantee an update.
> 
> Hope you liked it! :)


	7. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh sorry this is so late!! I was so busy this weekend!!!
> 
> I'm not too happy as to how I wrote this chapter (idk it just doesn't sit with me right), so please, forgive me if it is not to the standards you have of me.

The first thing that Yuri registered was a buzzing in his ears, steady and obnoxious, demanding his attention. He wasn't sure how much time he had just been listening when he became aware of the feeling of incredible softness against his skin, and later, the warmth of the sun on his face. By now the buzzing had faded, but Yuri still could not move or open his eyes. It was a strange sensation, being able to feel the most basic of things but be paralyzed. 

_I guess I'm not dead.....yet._

Yuri, alone (as far as he could tell) laid still, body relaxed but mind racing to piece together the vague memories that he still had of the past....whatever. He was dying, metal stabbed through his gut like a hot knife in butter. A whinny of a horse, shouting, then there was....nothing for a while. Not until the pain started, and that lasted for a very long time. But where was he that there were things as soft as what he was laying on? There was no way that he was dead, for if he was then why could he still feel the ache of his wound deep in his abdomen? Weren't you supposed to not feel anything once you crossed over?

_Maybe I imagined the whole thing?_

No, that wasn't right. The memory, the feeling of a jagged sword tearing through his flesh was too real. The pain now that he was in was way too sharp to support that theory either. 

Somewhere off to his left, Yuri heard the sound of a door unlatching and footsteps getting closer, hushed voices. He went to open his eyes, but with no avail. When he tried to talk, open his mouth and croak out a plea he was met yet again with failure. Yuri was suddenly aware of a keen fear rising in him. He was the emperor and while he had many people that loved him, most of the nobles would applaud at the news of his death; why would he put it past any of them to try and have him killed just to speed things up? Yuri fought against his own body, losing terribly. He was scared. Had he really survived a fatal blow from a sword on the fields of battle to die in an unknown location because he couldn't seem to get up?

As the footsteps neared Yuri's heart pounded and his blood rushed in his ears. They stopped and a cool hand placed itself on his forehead.

"No fever. Looks like he's still unconscious, though I suspect that he'll come around soon." a voice muttered, light and feminine. It certainly sounded familiar, like Yuri had known it's owner, but who? The answer seemed to be right on the tip of his tongue, just barely unreachable. "What am I going to do with you, Yura? Who gave you permission to go and get yourself stabbed?" 

Yura? There was only one person that--Mila! Yuri felt a wave of relief wash over him as he came to peace with the fact that one of his best friends was standing over him, not a paid hit-man. The desperation he had to speak was still there, but for the reason that he wanted to converse with one of his closest friends. Ask how things have been, what happened that he didn't remember. Where they were, how they got there, and so many more. Sadly, his body did not comply and after a shuffle of retreating feet against the floor, he heard the sound of a door closing, and the chance was gone. Yuri inwardly sighed. Was this paralysis normal? Would it last any longer? Yuri didn't have the answers nor the means of finding them, but he and his traitorous body were met with the burning need to sleep. Deciding that fighting would do him no good, he surrendered to the bliss of dreaming peacefully.

The next time that Yuri woke, that glorious feeling of sunlight on his skin was gone, and there was a chill in the air, but from the deep silence around him, he was alone. The pain in his gut was still just as sharp, but now his whole body was sore, the ache running deep into his bones. 

"Ughh...." he muttered hoarsely before freezing. Wait....talking....could he-

Forcing all of his limited strength into one task, Yuri just barely parted his eyelids before they fell closed again, the time he had his eyes open too brief to make out anything. He grit his teeth and tried again, pushing with all of his might.  _Come on, damn it!_ Inching his eyes open, the whole world blurred and his vision swam and swirled. The sight was dizzying and completely disorienting, and he could feel a painful headache form in the back of his skull. Eventually his sensitive eyes adjusted after a large amount of blinking and squinting.

Was what he seeing real?

Even though it was dark in the room, Yuri could make out the most basic shapes and patterns around him, but they were very familiar. He was on his back, eyes focused on the ceiling. Using his sense of touch he could tell that he was laying on a massive bed in nothing but a pair of loose pants, the silken white sheets pulled up midway on his bare chest. He couldn't turn his head, but Yuri didn't have to to know that to his right was a desk and window seat with one of the best views he had ever seen and to his left three titanic bookshelves that were filled to the brim of his favorite stories and other important documents due to his status. Off in the other corner of the suite was an adjacent, smaller room that was connected by a tiny hallway--where all of his clothing was. If he was able to look at the wall behind his bed he would find a painting as large as he was depicting his father, mother, and himself, and a large trunk at the foot of the bed.

It was his living quarters at the palace, but how did he get here? Last he knew they were kilometers away from the capital and palace on a grubby battlefield where the most comfortable thing around was thread-bare cotton. 

Yuri struggled to sit up but got no further than lifting his head shakily and twitching his fingers before falling back with a frustrated growl. He felt helpless and weak which just so happened to be his two most hated emotions.

"Hello?" Yuri croaked out, his voice breaking and raw from unuse. His throat felt like sandpaper and was dry like a desert and of course it was also sore. There was no answer to his garbled question, but then again he wasn't all that surprised. From the darkness around him he could tell that it was nighttime and the chance that there was someone in his room at this hour was minuscule. Breathing through his mouth, Yuri closed his eyes and tried to swallow his impatience to move so he could try and return to sleep. It would do him no use to stay up until someone decided to check on him.

* * *

Yuuri's hand shook, but he was able to guide the spoon to his mouth, only spilling a little bit of the broth he was trying to eat. Beside him Chris kneeled on the floor, a large smile on his face that split his lips and showed all of his teeth, holding his breath.

"Yuuri!" he cheered, surging forward and hugging the younger man tight. Yuuri squeaked at the touch. "Yuuri I'm so proud of you!" Yuuri looked down at the alpha and was about to ask him to let go, but couldn't bring himself to do it even though the contact made his skin crawl. The whole time that Yuuri had known Chris he had always been a bit happy-go-lucky and hyper, but he had never been this excited around Yuuri, so the younger was a little reluctant to put a stop to the joy even though it made him uncomfortable at best. When Chris pulled away Yuuri was relieved but the innocent grin was still wide on the alpha's face.

"Ah, Yuuri, look at you! You'll be recovered in no time!" he said, moving back a little to give the omega some space. Yuuri allowed a tiny smile on his lips.

"I-I think you're overreacting a-a little, Chris." Yuuri cursed his stutter, knowing that it was a sign of weakness and his new captors would probably be looking for that so they could exploit them. The only thing was that he couldn't control it. Sara had been called back to the doctor that she was assisted to (apparently they were also in the capital now, but Yuuri had no idea how or why) and Michele didn't come very often, which left Chris mostly taking care of Yuuri. This had left them spending a large amount of time together, but while he might have grown accustomed to the blond's antics, he was nowhere near comfortable with the man.

Sad enough for Yuuri, Chris was the pretty much one of the only ones that he even remotely trusted.

Chris scoffed jokingly, putting a hand over his heart dramatically. "Please, Yuuri, when have I ever overreacted?"

This was another one of the older man's habits that normally Yuuri wouldn't participate in if he was back with his former wardens. Yuuri had learned early on that more than half of the things that Chris said were exaggerated, sarcastic, or a joke. At first, Yuuri had been more than a little frightened at the constant battle of trying to figure out what the man meant or didn't mean, constantly thinking that if he got it wrong then it was all over and the pleasant demeanor that the alpha man liked to adapt would fade, but after his first few days, he had been able to catch up a little. Similarly, Yuuri had learned that Chris seemed to enjoy having barbs thrown back at him, but Yuuri was still too scared of overstepping his role as a slave to make his responses anything more than a few soft words.

Yuuri chose not to answer that, instead trying another spoon of the broth, his hand shaking so violently that he was sure there would be not more liquid for him to sip by the time that he got it to his mouth. Chris just sat back and hummed contentedly to himself. He raised a hand and placed it on Yuuri's forehead as he slowly ate, frowning a little. 

"You still have a bit of a fever, chéri. Let me see if I can get you something for that." 

Without another word Chris stood up and softly padded out, shutting the door behind him. Yuuri's head was starting to throb, and he didn't feel like further consuming the broth set out for him, but then again he knew that he had to keep feeding his body the means to create energy to heal, so he continued to mechanically eat. Sooner rather than later Chris came back, this time with a bowl filled with what Yuuri assumed was water. With a few soothing words, Chris convinced Yuuri to relax against the pillows and leave his broth be, promising that he could go back to it later. 

When Yuuri was settled against the plush pillows Chris dipped a cloth into the bowl and rung it out before placing it on Yuuri's forehead. Sighing at the beautiful feeling of cold water against his head, all of the tension melted out of his body. Chris stood over him with an approving gaze and sat in a comfortable position on the side of the bed, reaching over and working his fingers into Yuuri's scalp, which made the omega practically keen. Chris gently massaged Yuuri's head and playing with his hair just t soothe the stressed younger man. 

"Shhh, let all of that stress out. That's it. You keep pushing yourself, Yuuri, but it's okay, you don't have to rush your body. Let it heal. Relax, just relax...." Chris still mumbled things as he smoothed out all of the knots in the omega's hair, keeping the pattern at which he stroked even and comforting. And pretty soon, even though Yuuri wanted to fight it, he was asleep.

* * *

Yuri was going to go insane with boredom before he would even be able to heal himself properly, that was certain. He had regained consciousness three days ago, but Mila had condemned him to strict bed-rest. It was torture, just sitting in bed all day with nothing to do. Yes, he did have his duties to attend to as ruler of the empire his ancestors had established, but he was only getting a portion of the work, splitting it with his best friend and second-in-command, Otabek. It was mostly trivial things: this law needs to be reviewed, this lord is protesting and/or avoiding a tax, the usual small pockets of revolutionists, etcetera, etcetera. 

Yuri might not have been so complaintive if he had been able to get up and move, walk around, go take a ride on his horse, or even return back to the front lines, but alas, while he may not agree with the bed-rest he did know that he needed to let his body fully heal before jumping back into action. 

"Yuri!" Mila scolded when she walked into the room to find Yuri sitting up on the side of the bed, seconds from pushing off with his feet and standing. Yuri rolled his eyes in his usual fashion and made no move to continue his actions or lay back down. The red headed beta sighed deeply and rubbed the bridge of her nose before striding over and holding out her hand, which Yuri stared at a little confused. So now....what? She had never stuck out her hand in an invitation for Yuri to stand before.

"Come on, Yuri. I know that staying here is driving you mad and while I don't want you to leave the bed, I'd rather have your practice walking while I am here, not on your own when I leave because you are stubborn and bull-headed." 

Yuri looked down at the mention of him trying to walk on his own for the fact that it was true. He would have done exactly that and probably failed if he attempted walking after Mila was gone. After a moment of silence, Yuri gave in and grabbed the smaller hand in front of him, letting the beta woman help him up. From then on they practiced often--nearly everyday at Yuri's urging--and in no time the alpha emperor could successfully carry himself, even if his posture was a little rumpled. 

* * *

A few days later Yuuri was leaning heavily against Chris and focusing all of his concentration on his feet. They were in the hallway outside of his room, practicing walking, which Yuuri had really underestimated as to how hard that action was. His legs felt like jelly, and about as solid, muscles protesting at the action. They had only gone a few feet from the door frame, but it felt like a thousand times the distance to Yuuri's quivering legs.

"That's it, take it slow." Chris' soothing tone said.

Yuuri had a sudden flash of guilt. Chris was so patient with him, so understanding, never once had the older alpha been cruel towards him, yet Yuuri knew that the man was eager to see him improve and he was unable to deliver, which killed him. 

"Yep, one foot in front of the other...." 

Yuuri gritted his teeth and swallowed down the sudden urge to collapse against the ground in defeat. He had to make this up to Chris and prove that the hope that he had put in Yuuri wasn't forgotten, even if the omega thought that it was a foolish thing, trusting in him. Yuuri took another step and stopped to recover, breathing heavily through his mouth. Chris' grip on his side tightened in both encouragement and precautionary in case Yuuri's legs gave out. Another step. Recovery. Another....and another....and another. Slowly but surely Yuuri was walking, and yes, after less than a dozen steps his knees did buckle and spill him. Yes, Chris had to catch him, and yes Yuuri bristled at the contact, but by the gods he was walking!

As they sat on the floor, just the two of them in the whole hallway, Chris laughing heartedly and Yuuri sparing a rare smile, the omega couldn't help but feel like things were starting to get a little bit better than before, and he decided that he liked it before his cynical thinking could tell him that he shouldn't and that it would all come crashing back down to haunt him eventually, because nothing lasts forever.

Little did Yuuri know, his the pessimistic thoughts that he was suppressing were right.

* * *

Exactly one week since Yuuri had regained his motor abilities (as unsteady as they were), he had found himself trying to shakily walk down to the kitchens for lunch. Chris was still in the building, but was called to another area to help with a lord that was being particularly shady (at least that's what he said, but then again Yuuri had no idea what Chris even did when he wasn't with him) so Yuuri was by himself for a little.

It was really when he started to attempt to locate the kitchens did he realize the sheer size of the place he was in. When he had first arrived and regained consciousness, Sara had told him that he was in the capital, but he had only half-believed it. Now however, he was convinced that he was stuck in the palace of a rich noble of sorts, the space too large, the decorations too ornate or delicate looking to be anywhere but the center of civilization. 

So Yuuri was now lost, hopelessly wandering the endless halls of his large prison. 

"Hello?" a voice rang out behind him. It was deeper than his own, masculine, rich, and demanding attention. Immediately Yuuri's heart seized and he whirled around too quickly in trying to find the source, loosing his balance and tripping, the world shifting as he fell to his side. He heard a yelp and then the sound of feet against floorboards coming closer.

_No no no don't come closer! Leave me alone!_

Strong arms wrapped around his body and stopped him from falling onto his face, but he didn't even have the decency to thank the stranger, instead feeling his heart race in his chest and the fears surge upward and into his head. Yuuri struggled against the grip which only reflexively tightened at the wiggling, and he accidentally elbowed the man who had him in the stomach, hearing the small  _oof_ of exhaled air near his ear. His anxiety sky rocketed with every passing second. 

Yuuri was able to pry the arms off of him and scramble away, tripping yet again but this time falling on his butt, although Yuuri didn't falter, scooting back as far as he could until his back was against the wall.

The stranger in front of him was tall, probably about 190 cm (about 6ft 2in). He had long blond hair that flowed down from a ponytail, the excess thrown over a shoulder. His eyes were a sharp and knowing green that seemed to capture his gaze and hold him completely by it. His facial features were a bit angular, but in an attractive way. He was older than Yuuri himself was, but not by much, a lean and much more muscular body than what Yuuri himself was sporting, the older's frame filled out and strong. There was a look of worry on the mystery man's face, but Yuuri didn't let that fool him. He had seen fake emotions all to often he couldn't-

"Hey, it's okay, I didn't mean to-" he started, reaching out a hand, but Yuuri flinched back so violently that the back of his head hit the wall. Yuuri molded himself to the surface, trying to reconstruct his body as small as possible. The blond only frowned, this time just inching closer, but Yuuri still reacted the same, curling in on himself, lip quivering and body shaking. 

_No no no no no not again! Not again!_

Yuuri's thoughts were dark, memories that plagued him at night just starting to resurface. Yuuri buried his head in his hands. He didn't notice the sound of another pair of footsteps racing down the hallway, nor the words spoken, but when the arms wrapped around him he felt it and started to feebly fight back with the little strength that he possessed, but somewhere in his mind his omegan instincts recognized the familiar scent and made his body relax. Yuuri's eyes were still shut, tears streaming down his face and terror coursing through his veins, but he allowed Chris to carry him off, trying to push the thoughts back to the depths of his mind. 

Meanwhile, Yuri followed Chris, who was carrying the black-haired stranger in his arms. Chris raced back down a few hallways until they were back in the west wing of the palace, throwing open one of the doors and surging through. Yuri made a move to enter the room too, concerned for the so obviously hurt stranger, but the door was closed on his face and Yuri just stood back in shock. 

 _What the fucking hell just happened?_ Was the first thought that he had when his mind caught up to reality. Sinking back into the wall for support, Yuri ran a hand through his hair and flipped through the memories that he had of the past five or so minutes, looking for where he went wrong and warranted this reaction.

_Yuri was walking down the hallway, hands in his pockets and on his way to Otabek's room to see if the older alpha wanted to hang out a bit. He had finally managed to work some free time where he didn't have the empire to worry about and wanted to spend that valuable time with his best friend--something that really hasn't happened since Yuri got involved with the war. Passing hallways left and right, Yuri whistled to himself a tune that his mother taught him when passing one of the many corridors, saw a figure in nothing but a simple white shirt that ended about a few inches above the knee and a pair of underwear that Yuri could just see the outline of._

_His back was facing Yuri, but the shock of pitch-black hair still seemed familiar to him for some reason. The figure was obviously lost, his head turning here and there to take in all of the mammoth paintings hanging on the walls and the tall windows that were common in the palace. Yuri was curious. Why there was an unknown person roaming the halls of the emperor's mansion all alone and lost Yuri did not know, but he wanted to find out. Not to mention the fact that it already seemed like they were known to the blond alpha._

_Striding forwards, Yuri subconsciously fingered his hair to make sure that it was in place, only to frown to himself and curse his actions. He didn't even know this person! Why was he so worried about his appearance?_

_"Hello?" he called out, banishing the frown on his face and instead adopting a grin that felt unnaturally natural, as ironic as it was. The figure jumped at his call, whipping around so fast that he was sure to suffer from whiplash, only to stumble and begin to fall. Yuri yelped in surprise and rushed forward to the falling stranger, wrapping his arms around the smaller figure just in time._

_He was as light as a feather, weighting absolutely nothing, which surprised Yuri greatly and reminded him of the mysterious figure that he had rescued from the raging waters of the river weeks ago. The boy--he was younger than Yuri himself--had pale skin and a dainty built, seemingly like a glass sculpture. He instantly started to struggle, but he wasn't nearly strong enough to overpower Yuri himself, thought that certainly didn't stop him from trying. An elbow landed a blow to Yuri's stomach, forcing a gasp of air from his lungs and his hold of the stranger to slacken enough that the figure was able to escape his grasp._

_The younger fell, this time too quickly for Yuri to catch, but he didn't seem to notice, only floundering backwards so he was pressed against the walls. Yuri mentally smacked himself and tried for the least threatening pose he knew. Of course, he was terrified of him! Yuri had practically snuck up on the other!_

_"Hey, it's okay, I didn't mean to-" he started, reaching out a hand to help the other up, but the stranger violently recoiled, hitting the back of his head against the wall with a THUMP! As Yuuri looked at the smaller figure balled together against the wall, he felt an immense urge to pick him up, carry him to his own quarters and hug him until he felt better. Of course, he didn't, because while the younger was very familiar, Yuri now knew that they had not met properly. He would have remembered this stranger._

_Yuri inched forwards, but only received the same treatment: rejection. He tried to not let it hurt him, but for some reason it felt worse than a hot burn._

_The stranger hid his head and now Yuri was seriously worried. Was he hurt? Did he need a doctor? Should Yuri go get Mila? Yuri's mind was made up when Chris came barreling past him and scooped up the younger person who was now emitting the strong scent of an omega in distress. Yuri was surprised and stunned when the stranger didn't react to Chris' touch. Illogically, jealously started to form, but Yuri squashed it._

After that, Yuri had followed Chris and was now here, but still without an answer to any of the questions racing around his head. As far as he could tell Yuri did nothing wrong, but then again he could have easily overlooked a detail and this whole thing could be his fault. Granted that was no where near his only question. Yuri also wanted an answer to why he wanted to march his ass into the room and steal away the stranger from Chris. Thinking furiously, he started to connect some of the dots. 

_He's the same person that I had pulled out of the river back at the barbarian camp._

The abrupt thought actually made some sense. This stranger and the boy he had saved had the same basic features that Yuri had observed, though both times he never got a good look at him. Yuri had firsthand experienced just how light they both were, and not to mention the fact that he had sent the boy he pulled saved from the barbarians to his own palace, which was where they were now. So it was only logical that he had stumbled upon the same boy twice.

But Yuri was still feeling like he was being kept in the dark. Specifically about why he was feeling the way that he was. 

The door behind him opened and Chris walked out, eyes sad and tired, but without the stranger that Yuri had so mysteriously formed an attachment to. Chris didn't shut the door, but Yuri still couldn't see through to the interior. The older man sighed.

"Yura, listen, what happened isn't your fault. He's....suffering. When you scared him, you sorta triggered some memories that he tries to forget."

Yuri felt his frown deepen at Chris' half-assed explanation.

"What do you mean? Is he okay or not?" Of course he was his usual abrasive self. Of course.

"That depends on your definition of 'okay'. For now, I think I calmed him down, but now he'll probably have another nightmare tonight. I wish I can help him with these things, but he won't take the little I can offer."

Chris looked defeated.

"He's scared of this place, Sara, Michele, the servants, me, everything terrifies him because he keeps on thinking about what happened to him before."

"Before?"

This time Chris seemed to age before Yuri's eyes, which the younger alpha did not take as a very good sign. Chris always had this special demeanor around him that broke all sorts of tensions and relaxed everyone with his light attitude. Right now though, it looked like he needed some of his own medicine.

"I don't know of anything for certain, because he won't talk, but I've talked about this with Otabek and we think that the barbarians kept him in their camp because, well, they wanted a sex slave. He's an omega, I know that you caught on to that much with what just happened in the hallway, but I think that that's  _why_ he went through what he did." 

Yuri's brain flat-lined. The stranger was not much older than sixteen or seventeen, but a  _fucking sex slave_ because he was an  _omega?_ No, no way, there wasn't a human being that was so selfish and cruel to rape a child  _repeatedly._ But....

The more that Yuri thought about it the sicker he felt and the more infuriated his feelings became towards the barbarians that had been invading them for years now.  _How the fuck can they do that to someone? Don't they have an ounce of humanity in their bodies!?_

"Look, if you're going to go see him, then just make sure not to mention anything that I told you, and he doesn't like physical contact unless you're playing with his hair, alright? Try not to act too much like an alpha and just....just be careful."

Yuri weighted his options for a moment, but then decided that thinking wasn't the best option right now and recognized this was one of those times where he needed to act first and think later. So without trying to second-guess himself again, Yuri strode in, making his footsteps loud in order to let the not-so-stranger aware of his presence. 

The boy was in the middle of the large bed, curled up on his side, facing the door. Those chocolate-brown eyes started to fill up with fear, but Yuri stopped where he stood and put both hands up. He stood there for a few moments, tension thick in the air. 

"My name is Yuri Nikolaevich Pilsetsky, and I'm not here to hurt you. I'm sorry for earlier; I didn't mean to startle you like that. It was my fault. Forgive me." Yuri waited for a response, but got none. The silence stretched, and unfortunately Yuri could tell that the figure on the bed was starting to get anxious. What was that thing that Chris had said?

Taking small, slow steps, Yuri edged his way to the bed, those terrified brown eyes following his every move. The figure didn't make a move to flee, but the young alpha could tell that he wanted to. Reaching down, Yuri started to pet the black locks of hair, a little uncoordinated and unknowing in the gesture, but the effect was instantaneous. The boy melted into the sheets and the tension left his body, leaning into the touch.

Inwardly, Yuri chuckled and became a little more used to the action, trying a few different patterns of running his fingers through the soft locks of hair, for now the thoughts of this innocent boy being forced into sexual deeds without his consent gone from Yuri's mind.

 _Cute,_ he thought.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, neither saying a word until the silence was broken by the stranger.

"My name is Yuuri." The voice was sweet as sugar even though it trembled a little, and Yuri knew that from now on, he loved the sound of it. Gently playing with the silken strands in between the pads of his fingers Yuri mused with the fact that they apparently shared a name. He really didn't mind the thought of this stranger and him sharing something as intimate as name, and it surprised him because normally he was fiercely protective of the things that were his. 

Yuri didn't have a last name, or anything else to go off of, but just the words  _"My name is Yuuri"_ was enough. He smiled at the figure on the bed.

"Hello Yuuri."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and scene! Yay! they finally have met! I have so many plans for the future and speaking of~
> 
> did anyone catch my hint towards the future? That little bit of foreshadowing? No? Maybe? Oh well I try :p
> 
> (for how I got Yuri's "middle name" I could try to explain it to all of you here, but that would be boring and this link can explain it better: http://c0rnfl0wer.tumblr.com/post/158793053134/psa-for-the-yoi-fandom-russian-names-how-to-use
> 
> chéri---sweetheart in French
> 
> EDIT: This is not looked over or beta'd so I'm sorry for any mistakes! I'll try an correct them in the morning! Thank you for reading!


	8. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my awesome readers! I'm sorry that it took so long! This chapter is focused entirely on Yuriyuu development, and there is tons of moments where they are comforting each other. I hope you like it! Also, thank you all for all of the amazing comments and kudos, I can't express my love! ^-^ 
> 
> Also, thank axona and their new fic for getting my butt in gear, plus all of your comments that fed my muse. 
> 
> Enjoy!

To Yuuri's bewilderment, the blond kept visiting him over the next two weeks, nearly everyday too. His visits weren't for very long, most times lasting under and hour, and it wasn't usually filled with what most could call normal conversation. Yuuri was still skittish around the other alpha, so more times than not it was the other talking about aimless things and Yuuri sitting, listening. Sometimes he sat on a chair, sometimes the foot of the bed, and occasionally, would pet Yuuri's hair like he liked.

Yuuri still didn't trust him (hell, he  _barely_ trusted Chris as it was and he had been around the man for so long already) but Yuuri had to admit, there was a certain appeal to the blond's visits, and as time slowly ticked by, started to enjoy them, as incredible as it was for Yuuri to find himself feeling this way. 

Chris had told him numerous times that he could trust this other alpha, and so far he hasn't done anything too serious to set off Yuuri's annoyingly intense anxiety, mindful to exclude their first encounter that Yuuri now understood to be nothing more than his idiocy and fears getting in the way of trying to move on. So gradually, Yuuri let himself fall the tiniest bit open to the blond who had already told him numerous things about himself. It wasn't much, a few words here or a wobbly smile there, no where near enough compensation for everything that the blond has done for him, but then again the young alpha always seemed to light up when Yuuri peaked over his walls every once and a while.

The stranger thing was that the blond never demanded anything from him. Is was if he could sense when Yuuri didn't want to talk (which was pretty much all the time) and didn't say anything about it or try to milk an answer out of him, only continuing on as if it was the most normal thing in the world. It certainly stumped the omega.

Besides Yuuri apparently gaining another source of limited company, he had made most of his progress physically. By now he could successfully feed, clothe, and bathe himself without help. He could walk a significant distance without assistance, including navigating stairs. Most of the time Yuuri could get by with the simple pain medicines that Sara gave him every morning, and his migraines were becoming less and less frequent, not to mention shorter. 

Although, Yuuri wasn't as excited for his healing progress as Chris was, who had praised him nearly everyday for recovering so quickly and magnificently. Yuuri knew he was in a better place than he was with Phichit, but then again, he was a male omega, and nothing more than a hole to fuck to the world, so it was only logical to start thinking about how pretty soon, his new masters were going to ask for retribution for healing him. If his thoughts about it sounded bitter, it was because he was bitter and sour, knowing that no matter what he would be worth less than the dirt that these people stepped in daily.

The other downside was that as his capabilities increased with his recovering condition, the people that had supervised his healing process were coming less and leaving more frequently. And as much as Yuuri hated to admit it to himself, he had formed a sense of trust and friendship with Sara, her brother Michele, and more importantly, Chris. They had become the closest things that he had to friends since Phichit, and Yuuri had gradually let himself feel comfortable around the three of them because of how utterly  _nice_ they were. They made it seem like they truly wanted nothing more than Yuuri's well-being, which he found unbelievable no matter how hard he tried to understand. He had been surrounded with fake emotions and empty promises since before he could remember, and yet he was unable to distinguish their false personas from who they apparently were. If it wasn't for them leaving him, rushing off with apologizes that were sure to be fake and unfulfilled promises that it wouldn't happen again, they were just  _busy,_ but Yuuri didn't let it fool him for a second. He knew that soon enough they would get tired of babysitting him, waiting around for him to finally pull his weight and leave and he had thought that he had prepared himself for dealing with it but why did it  _hurt so **much**_?

Yuuri understood that he was unwanted and unneeded, but he would have rather had them tell him the truth, not lie about it and come up with excuses. 

There was a third downside, but weirdly the most painful he could imagine. Chris, Sara, and Michele were already seemingly to drift further and further away from him, but his newfound shadow, the blond, had already started to worm his way into his consciousness when he wasn't present, sometimes leaving Yuuri awake at night, furiously thinking because  _what_ made him so damn  _compelling?_ It was like a slow and painful death, knowing that for some reason this blond would not leave him alone and Yuuri found himself not  _wanting_ him to go, like some primal instinct was for him to just allow the blond to tip-toe his way closer and closer to the wreck that Yuuri was. His walls weren't strong enough, that was certain, because more times than not Yuuri was reduced to a curled up ball after one of his visits, scared and confused as to how he had let the pathway for someone to get so dangerously close open. Why did it seem as if he couldn't deny the blond? It was evident that with the others that he would leave, but why was he now letting the blond waltz closer and closer?

He knew that it was only a matter of time before the blond left, but that hurt almost as bad as watching Chris and Sara and Michele leave him even though they had only known each other for a few weeks, and he didn't understand it in the slightest. Gods, how did he get himself into such a mess? How the hell did he do this? Trying to stave off the alpha from his mind and heart, only failing and trying to distance himself in every way that was possible, even resulting to calling him "the blond" instead of his name to try and create an impersonal feeling towards the older man. It was desperate and pathetic, but it was the only thing that Yuri could come up with to try and salvage himself from burning further. 

It was useless. Obviously he was destined to bleed with every encounter that he faced in this horrid life, but he still couldn't help but try and image a time when he didn't have to push everyone and everything away and could have a tiny bit of comfort that he didn't have to worry about it leaving. What did they call thoughts like that? Oh yeah, wishful thinking.

* * *

Yuri was laying on his bed, staring aimlessly at the wall.

He was worried about the other Yuuri who was only a hallway or two down and all alone in his room. Yuuri had made tremendous progress physically, nearly all of his wounds healing, the bruises fading disappearing, his strength returning. Yuri's own health had greatly improved, but he could care less because the other Yuuri was suffering from a mental wound that was eating him alive.

The thing was that Yuuri didn't let any of them in, pushing all attempts they made further and further away, sheltering the scar in his mind and letting it grow from the lack of attention that it was receiving. He wouldn't let them try and help him, too afraid of  _something_ to let anyone help, and it worried Yuri because he knew from experience that bottled-up emotions were dangerous, ticking bombs waiting to explode and destroy. He had lived it when his parents died, and vowed to never let himself get that bad ever again, but it pained him greatly to see it happen to another soul, especially one who had already endured so much.

Yuri growled at the back of his throat and rolled over to his other side, eyeing his door. He wished that he could pry open Yuuri's head and peer into his mind, reach in and fix the problem, pry out all of the bad memories and lock them away forever so they couldn't hurt him anymore. A deep frown etched in his features that he couldn't help but let it take over his face as he flung the covers off of his body and stood, making his way to the opposite corner of his room and slipping out, breathing in the colder air of the hallway. He was in nothing but a loose pair of trousers, no shirt and no fucks about his half-naked body. All of the servants would be asleep in their own homes elsewhere in the capital anyways. 

He silently made his way down the hallway, breathing through his mouth and forcing his mind to cease it's running around in circles. Soon enough, he was passing Yuuri's door and like a magnet his eyes darted down the smooth wood and to the handle that seemed to beckon him closer. He almost made the mistake of allowing his instincts to win out, but he forced his body to continue it's path down the corridor.  _Don't even fucking think about it. He's probably asleep like any other sane person anyways and you'll only wake him up._

At least, that's what he told himself until his alpha nose caught the faintest scent of an omega in distress. It made him freeze in his spot instantly and the blood rush in his ears. For a tense minute, all he did was breathe.  _Calm the fuck down, it's just you imagining things like alw-_

A soft whimper reached his ears, low enough that it he hadn't been unconsciously holding his breath he wouldn't have heard. His mind shut down and all of the sudden Yuri found his body propelling him forwards, throwing open the door and rushing inside the room, the omegan scent now much stronger with the barrier out of the way. It was strong, so it seemed like the entire air was permeated with the stench of terror and it sent the young alpha into protective overdrive. 

His eyes settled on the young omega who seemed to be drowning in the massive bed, sheets rumpled and tossed about, the figure flailing. Running closer to Yuuri, Yuri felt his heartbeat spike unwillingly in his chest, thumping loudly. 

Yuuri's delicate features were twisted into a silent mask of fear, mouth parting in a wordless scream, eyes clenched shut so hard that it was sure to hurt. His brows were drawn together in an almost violent fashion and sweat and tears were pouring down his face. His body jerked and twitched, whimpers and soft pleads escaped his lips, the sheer amount of emotional agony behind them stunning Yuri and leaving him speechless. Horrified, Yuri only dashed closer, hell bent on waking the other from whatever haunted his consciousness at this hour. 

He placed both hands on Yuuri's side and shook him gently to try and pull him from the nightmare, but with no avail and shaking harder.

"Yuuri! Yuuri you need to wake up it's just a dream!" He said although Yuuri couldn't hear him. 

Still in the throes of sleep, the omega jerked his arm out of Yuri's grasp and moaned a low "No!" before gasping in what sounded like pain. It only made Yuri's pulse increase and his worry thicken, but he couldn't do anything about it for a moment later, Yuuri bolted up in bed, a jagged scream ripping from his lungs. It was carnal and primitive in the raw emotion behind it, spiking such fear in Yuri's heart it was as if he could experience what the omega was feeling, although Yuri knew that what he was given a glimpse to was no where near the terror that Yuuri was facing in his mind. 

The scream died in Yuuri's throat and no soon had it did Yuuri doubled over and fold in on himself, violent sobs racking his body, breath coming in torn gasps. His hands clutched at his scalp, fisting handfuls of his own sweaty hair and tugging as if it would rid himself of the images that were flashing through his mind. Yuri stopped, not sure what would be the best option for Yuuri, thinking through all of the possible situations that could come from him speaking or comforting the omega. Should he just leave him alone? How could he help Yuuri if Chris said that he hated physical contact? What if-

Yuri cursed himself and his moment of weakness. There was no reason why Yuuri should have to face something like this, especially alone without help. And let the gods damn it, but Yuri was not going to take no for an answer. Yuuri needed help and could not try to fix himself single-handedly and silently behind closed doors. No, from now on Yuri was going to pour all of his efforts into this boy, this boy that somehow meant so much to him, had wormed his way into Yuri's heart with nothing but how he carries himself and his dull eyes.

Shutting down the logical part of his brain, Yuri strode forward and climbed up onto the bed before wrapping his arms around the trembling omega and pulling him in. Instantly he started to fight like their first meeting, but Yuri did not flinch, nor did his grip falter, only bringing the younger closer to his chest and staying silent as Yuuri feebly tried to escape. The tears were still freely streaming down his face, including the small gasps for air and tiny pleads to let him go. 

"Shhh, Yuuri." Risking his grip, Yuri released one of his hands and brought it up to Yuuri's head where he started to stroke, fingers winding themselves into the silken strands of black hair as softly as he could manage, letting out the most comforting alpha scent he was capable of. Yuuri was still not completely calm, still hyperventilating and tears that continued to make his cheeks glisten. He had yet to cease trembling, but it was not as violent as it had been and Yuuri had stopped fighting Yuri's hug.

"Y-Yuri, p-p-please let me g-g-go...."he whispered, voice raw and rough. Even though Yuuri was facing away from him, Yuri still found himself shaking his head.

"No, Yuuri, I'm not letting you go until you are okay."

They both fell into silence until Yuuri muttered something so low that Yuri missed it. 

"What was that?"

"I'm not okay, b-but you shouldn't w-worry about m-me-"

"Bullshit." Yuri said, cringing when the omega in his arms jerked with the profanity. Deciding to not address it at this moment, Yuri merely continued speaking. "Of course I care about you, Yuuri, so of course I am going to worry. Look, I don't know how you see me, but I want you to know that you managed to find your way into my heart somehow, and I consider you a friend. I don't have many true friends, so believe me when I say that I will do anything for them, and that includes you too. I'm here for you, and I can't stand seeing you fall apart when you think no one is looking because you refuse help."

Yuuri visibly deflated and hung his head, but without the luxury of being able to see his face, Yuri wasn't quite certain what the omega was feeling, though it couldn't have been positive. He didn't try to coax an answer out of the other male, but let the silence hang and fester, not stopping his careful and soothing strokes on the omega's hair.

"My parents died a little over a year ago." Yuri said abruptly. He wasn't sure why he started talking, or why he would try to  _comfort_ someone by saying something so morbid as  _my parents died,_ but it wasn't as if he could take it back now, so he continued. "They weren't sick or anything like that, they were murdered on their way to a diplomatic mission. They were younger and had so much life ahead of them. They loved nearly everything; nothing could bring them down. And when they were killed, a part of me died with them, and I know that that part of me is never going to come back." Yuri shifted his weight backwards a little so his back was against the headboard, but made sure to keep Yuuri in his embrace, who had gone still with his story. "I bottled up everything and retreated into myself, convinced that I didn't need anyone to help me anymore. To be honest, that was the biggest lie I have ever told. The truth was that I needed someone more than ever, I needed someone not to really 'save me' per se, just to kind of help me stand so I could walk, and give me encouragement when I fell. The only problem was that I pushed everyone away from me. Family, friends, everyone. Yet, the people that cared about me stuck around through my rage; they were those people to pick me back up and help me on my way. I couldn't have done it without them, and I think that if they hadn't intervened, I don't think I would be here right now." Yuri ended quietly, his voice no higher than a whisper.

Yuuri didn't nod or give any other sign that he had heard Yuri bearing his soul, only sat there and stared ahead. Eventually, after a long pause Yuuri sat forward and wormed his way out of Yuri's arms, but the alpha didn't do too much to stop him, a little too distracted in his memories. The omega crawled a few feet away and sat on his hunches, hands in his lap and head bowed. Yuri looked at him curiously, but didn't say anything.

"My mother always told me stories when putting me and my sister to bed late at night. She would make us little treats on our birthdays, and smother us in the tightest hugs you could imagine. She was ridiculously short too," Yuuri smiled and shook his head in fondness. "like me. My father wasn't that much taller either, but he told jokes all the time. Whenever he would take me with him to the village market he would put me on his shoulders and I loved it because I was finally tall." Another small smile. "My sister was annoying, but in the best way possible. She would always terrorize all of the bullies that would pick on me for being small and weak."

Yuri inwardly growled. How could other children pick on such an innocent person? Granted Yuri had no idea what a toddler version of Yuuri looked like, but even here, in his late teens and recovering from the clutches of death he was cute, so he had to have been an unstoppable force of adorableness. How could they have been mean to that? Yuri nearly missed the dark look that suddenly overran the omega's features.

"The barbarians came in the middle of the night when I was five. It had snowed earlier in the week and it was freezing outside. There was no warning that I know of, only my sister, Mari, shaking me awake and yelling for me to get up because the village was under attack. I remember how the roof of the inn that my parents owned was on fire, smoke everywhere. Screams from all of the villagers were constant. I was crying, stumbling after my older sister who was trying to carry a backpack with some food. I kept asking her where our parents were, but she wouldn't answer me, only shaking her head and urging me faster. We got out of our house just before it collapsed in flames and at the time I thought that that was just about the scariest thing that I had ever seen." Yuuri's voice was soft and his tears had started to dribble down his solemn expression again. "We were almost out when this man stepping in front of us. He was wearing skins splattered with blood and gore, a dripping red sword in his hand. He seemed huge and gigantic in my child-like eyes, but I remember how Mari just turned towards me and pushed me down the hill after telling me that she loved me. That was the last time that I saw her."

Yuuri had now curled up into a ball, knees tucked up under his chin while Yuri sat next to him in utter shock and anger, fury bubbling under his skin for the beings that had caused this boy so much pain, though he was careful to keep his barely restrained rage from showing in fear of scaring Yuuri.

"I ended up getting caught that night by the General, and after that I was part of their group even if I'm still not sure why he didn't kill me on the spot. I would fetch firewood and wash their clothing, tend to the fire and other trivial things. Eventually I learned the basics of the language that they spoke through trial and error, and punishments eased up after that. A few years later we came across another wandering soul, and his name was P-Phichit. We became friends, and he took care of me, especially, when  _it_ happened."

Yuuri fell silent, and Yuri wasn't sure if he should say anything. The omega had started to tremble again, a faint shaking that Yuri knew would soon get worse before it got any better. The story itself sounded familiar, jogging a memory about a village that had gotten ransacked an appropriate time ago, no one but one child surviving, although no one had any idea where the child went. Yuri didn't believe in coincidences, but what were the odds that the child and Yuuri were two different people? Yuri licked his lips before opening his mouth, praying that talking wasn't going to force Yuuri back into his shell. 

"What happened?"

"I presented as an omega. They.....raped me as they liked, f-forced me into so many  _things,_ and I  **hated** it so much. P-Phichit would have to make sure that I still ate and bathed. He took over most of my chores and became so much more than a friend, but like the older brother I never had. A-after every battle and skirmish, dinner, no matter what they would just... _drag me away_ and-and..." Yuuri broke down sobbing, but this time Yuri did not hold back, surging forward and wrapping the omega in a protective embrace, feeling a deep growl try and burst through his throat. 

"I-I'm so  _scared._ I-I know that y-you probably w-want the same  _things,_ but I just  _c-can't-"_

Yuri pulled back, an absurd look on his face. Did Yuuri really think that? Did he think that they would do something like that to him?

"A-and I have n-nightmares that I c-c-can't stop and-"

Yuri cupped his hand and forced it to the omega's mouth to stop him from talking, feeling breathless and a little lightheaded. 

"Yuuri, Yuuri, please you have to listen to me. I know that it may be hard for you to believe this, but here you are  _free._ You do not have to do anything that you don't have to, and I swear to the gods that if anyone tried to force themselves upon you I will have them executed. You are a person, not a sack of meat that other betas or alphas can use for their enjoyment. I know that you won't think so until you learn to trust us, but you are safe here. You can roam these halls without fear." Yuri searched the omega's face to get an idea as to what he was feeling, but all he could see was the wide eyes open in disbelief and his mouth open wide enough to catch flies.  _He doesn't believe me._

"H-how....I don't....."

"Listen Yuuri,  _you matter._ As a person, as a member of our society, and as so many other things. I know that you have been deeply wronged in the past at such a young and innocent age, but I swear that the world does not see you like that.  _I_ don't see you like that. You want to know what one of the first things I noticed about you was? How black your hair was. I was so preoccupied with your health that I never actually noticed your secondary gender until out first meeting in the hallway a few weeks ago. Yuuri, what I'm trying to say is that I don't care if you are an omega. I wouldn't want you any different from how you are. If you happened to be a beta or an alpha, I would have still befriended you, and I would have still cared about you. And I do. I care about you more than you realize and I think more than I know." Yuri felt a loss for words. He felt like he was rambling, struggling to try and say everything that he wanted, but he was no where near the poet that he needed to be, so he was left floundering for the right phrases, praying that Yuuri understood what he was trying to explain.

Yuri cupped his hands around Yuuri's face and the younger omega hesitantly met his gaze, one of his own smaller hands over Yuri's larger ones. Yuri brushed away Yuuri's tears with his thumbs, a wobbly smile on his own face. Yuuri looked ready to cry again, his eyes shimmering with vast depths of emotion. 

"I want to help you. Let me help you, Yuuri." he whispered, moisture springing to his own eyes as he stared at the omega inches away. Something stirred in his chest, but he wasn't sure what it was and chose to ignore it. Yuuri merely shook his head before crawling forward into the alpha's lap, burying his head into Yuri's naked chest before letting out sobs, bringing his knees up and curling himself around the older man. Something about this raw display of emotion was different than the ones that he had seen so far, and he got the impression that they were tears of relief? Happiness? He wasn't quite sure what word he was looking for, but yet again his vocabulary seemed to abandon him. 

So all he did was bring his arms tight around the shaking omega and whisper words of comfort, rubbing circles on his back and arms and hair to try and help Yuuri let go. Yuri could still feel his own tears threaten, but like Yuuri's emotion, he didn't know how to classify it. Instead of dwelling on it, Yuri only squeezed Yuuri tighter in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that Yuriyuu enough for all of you? A bit deep and depressing, I know, but going forward there will start to be fluff coming in with a vengeance! Also, Yuri, you precious precious Yuri you, comforting and being so protective of Yuuri, god it warms my heart. 
> 
> Until next time! Love ya!
> 
> (sorry for mistakes xD )


	9. Viktor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy! :D
> 
> (parts of this chapter came from an idea from ayaMASO, because I totally agree that Yuuri needs more friends)

Yuri growled and punched the bed frame beneath him. Otabek, who was sitting right next to him, didn't flinch, just put a hand on the younger alpha's shoulder in understanding. 

"You don't have to punch your mattress, you know." he said quietly in the normal Otabek way.

Yuri didn't want to listen to logic at the moment and he was thoroughly ticked off, so he shrugged the hand off and snapped an answer back.

"Well what the hell am I supposed to do then? we only missed one barbarian and that was the General himself, that asshole. No one even knows where Takashi is anyways, and I can't even try to find him because I was fucking impaled! So what the hell am I supposed to hit?"

"Watch your language, Yuri, and I'm mad too. I don't even properly know him and I want to have revenge, so I can't imagine what you are feeling like, but you can't let your temper get out of control again. It won't do any good."

" _Please_ , taking action isn't good? Otabek we're soldiers of war! Do you know how fucking backwards that sounds?" Yuri bit back venomously. "It's our  _job_ to resort to violence."

Otabek sighed and shifted in his position on Yuri's bed, removing the palm that he had on his friend's shoulder before continuing.

"Yuri, look, you were never supposed to get sucked into this war, and as a matter of fact, neither was I." Yuri opened his mouth to shout  _What's that supposed to mean?_ in his normal hot-headed manner but Otabek held up a hand for silence. "Obviously that didn't happen. Your parents died, and you were thrown right into this whole goddamn situation. At the way-too young age of eighteen you were handed an entire empire to look after and a war that had been endured for a decade already when you had every right to be enjoying your youth and maybe even finding a mate if you were lucky. I'm not saying that you aren't capable, I'm just saying that you shouldn't have to deal with this shit yet. You went to war and I followed because I am your best friend and we do these things together." Otabek met Yuri's gaze. "So yes, we are soldiers by title, but please Yuri, do not apply that unfortunate occupation outside the battlefield."

"War is one of the only things I  _know,_ Beka. How can you tell me to just ignore it and pretend that it doesn't exists when I'm not on the front lines? It's constant and unchanging, and will always be there when everything else isn't. I mean, this war has fucking been here since before I can even remember." 

" _Language,_ Yura. You shouldn't curse so much. And I know. It's been here all of my life too; I know what it's like. I just don't want you to think that that is everything that there is to life, because it isn't. I remember a time when there was no war. People smiled openly on the streets and you didn't hear about messengers dashing through villages listing off the dead. War and violence isn't the only solution that the world will always know, just  _please,_ try and remember that for me?"

They stared at each other, unblinking, trying to convey emotions through the thick silence.

"How the hell did we end up talking about this?" a new voice sounded from the doorway. Yuri recognized it and groaned audibly. Couldn't she just go away for a few minutes longer so he could finish his damn conversation with Otabek?

"Go away, hag!" Yuri called, not even having to turn to know that it was Mila, especially when she draped herself over both his and Otabek's laps, Yuri getting her feet and Otabek having to deal with her head and shoulders. Groaning again, Yuri pushed the female beta's legs out of his lap and rolled his eyes directly in her line of sight. 

"Yuri, you and I both know that you don't mean that, and besides, you two enjoy my company."

"No I don't! Now seriously get out! Otabek and I are trying to fucking talk and we can't do that with your ass here too!"

"You're angry and frustrated from what I can tell, and I am not leaving until you tell me what is going on. I care for you too you know, and when I walked through that door you and Otabek were talking about some heavy stuff from what I heard. Now, spill." Mila kept the young emperor's stare to show the blond that she was serious; she wasn't leaving anytime soon. Pointedly, Yuri glared half-heartedly at the red head before gesturing at his best friend to explain their conversation.

"He's angry."

"He's Yuri, he's always angry. The question is about what?"

"The new omega that we found in the barbarian camp."

"Yuuri? Why would he be angry at him?"

"I'm not fucking angry at Yuuri! I'm pissed off because he was orphaned at five and then imprisoned with those horrible bastards! And guess what? Those motherfuckers raped him too after he presented while they were at it! So now Yuuri's afraid of me and Chris and Sara and Michele and  _everyone_ and  _everything!_ He can't sleep or eat properly and is worried that we are going to try the same damn thing!" Yuri yelled before Otabek could respond to Mila's question. 

The beta woman's face fell and a haunted look overtook her pretty face, azure eyes wide. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but not a word came forth, only a strangled, gurgling sound that Yuri wasn't sure how to classify. Yuri only clenched his hands where they were clutching at his knees, his grip turning the knuckles of his hand white. Yuri didn't care that he was probably leaving finger-shaped bruises on his clothed skin.

"And I can't help him at all. I can't go out and try to kill away the General to get rid of his physical fears because I'm still recovering. No matter what I say he still doesn't trust me all the way, and he won't let me past this imaginary line he has drawn." Even to his own ears Yuri sounded broken down and defeated. They were all silent, basting in their own thoughts. 

"But he trusts you." Otabek says quietly.

"No he doesn't. I come within ten feet of him and I can see the fear spring to life in his eyes."

"He told you all that stuff right? I don't know how you got him to tell you, but he trusted you enough to relive some pretty painful memories that he hid away from the rest of us. So maybe he trusts you, but is just afraid? Because you're an alpha?" Mila continued, a thoughtful look on her features. "I think know how I can help him feel comfortable around you. Does your cousin still live in the capital?" 

Yuri frowned to himself at the glint in Mila's eyes, not following her lead.

"Yeah, why?"

* * *

Yuuri was struggling to fall asleep. He had gotten only a few short hours of sleep last night, and they were fitful at best. He had had another nightmare too, only to be shaken away by the blond, a weirdly concerned look on his handsome face. Yuuri had made a fool of himself, crying pathetically, too weak to push away the older alpha from hugging him, and then babbling about his past. 

Gods, he probably drove the blond away now, the alpha too weirded out by his meltdown to want to return and keep a seemingly mute omega company anymore. Yuuri didn't blame him, but the feeling of knowing that he was the one that was responsible for driving the blond away. 

_Congratulations, Yuuri, you finally made sure that the only person still tolerating you wants no parts of your sorry ass after you sobbed and recounted your life-story._

Yuuri sighed and rubbed his chest to try and sooth the pain blossoming there, but it didn't do much good, and Yuuri was starting to wonder if it was emotional (as cliche as it sounded) and not physical. He wasn't even too sure as to what had happened last night, the memories sheathed in a light haze that only knew the feeling of arms tight around his middle and soft words whispered close to his ear. But Yuuri knew that he had ripped away the scab and made Yuri watch the blood run.

He heard the door to his bedroom open and at first assumed that it was Chris or maybe Sara, but then an unfamiliar scent faintly hit his nostrils, and against his will his heart picked up the pace of it's beats and his blood rushed in his veins. Yuuri jerked towards the sound of approaching foot steps, now quite sure what to make of the newcomer. 

He was tall, but not quite as the same staggering height as the blond, all legs. He was lean with a muscular build that was highlighted by the attire he wore--a pair of dark trousers and white shirt. There was a swagger in his step, a certain level of confidence the Yuuri didn't even know a human could possess that was fussed into every line of his body. The stranger's skin was pale, and his hair was the same, only the color of platinum cut short along the sides and a stylish fringe hanging in his blue, blue eyes. There was a smirk on his lips that didn't budge, not even when Yuuri scooted a space backwards. However, it strangely wasn't like all of the other malicious smirks that he had found himself subject to. It was somehow....kind?

"Hello," the man said, his voice rich and laced with an undertone that was slightly familiar, Yuuri just couldn't place it. "My name is Viktor Nikiforov. I doubt you've heard of me, but you definitely know my little cousin."

Yuuri was confused. Who was this stranger, with the unprecedented hair and charming personality? What game was he playing? The man must have seen Yuuri's puzzlement, because he made a move to explain himself. 

"My cousin is the emperor, Yuri Pilsetsky. He's younger than me if you can believe it, but a real kid when you-"

Yuuri knew that he probably shouldn't, but he interrupted the stranger. He was waiting for the blow that always came when he disrespected one of the barbarians, but none came, and he found himself briefly thinking about how last night the blond had mentioned about how Yuuri was now free and that he was  _safe._ The word still didn't feel right, still felt like a lie, but a much smaller one at that. Yuuri pulled himself out of his own thoughts to force his mind back into the present. 

"Yuri Pilsetsky? Tall, long, blond hair, green eyes; he's the  _emperor?"_

Viktor's eyes went wide for a moment before he regained his posture and looked at the omega on the bed with curiosity."He hasn't told you yet? Well, that does sound like my Yura. He doesn't like to throw his title around at the drop of a hat like some emperor's we've had in the past few centuries, and most likely wanted to gain your trust first. I can only imagine how hard trying to befriend someone who knows you are in power can be. I mean, I've only heard Yuri's stories about people groveling to him at every time possible." Viktor shrugged his perfectly sculpted shoulders and gave Yuuri an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry that you had to find out through me, though, and i just hope it hasn't altered your view of him." Under his breath, the man muttered something that sounded close to  _damn me and my big mouth!_ but Yuuri wasn't sure, so he didn't act like he may have heard. 

Viktor sat on the bed in a casual way that a friend would hug another, but Yuuri was still skeptical and suspicious of this man's motives. No one that he had been around had even mentioned a "Viktor" and certainly no one with silver hair or such a cheery personality. Surely, in all of Yuuri's time alive if he had learned anything, it was that first impressions were always wrong and no one was who they seemed to be, so there was no telling just who this man was.

"Anyways, I want to talk with you. I've heard a lot about you, but I want to learn about you from you, if you don't mind."

Yuuri wasn't sure how to take that. Was this some sort of trap that he had to find the loophole to get out of? Or possibly just some innocent prodding from a child-like soul that had no idea how to handle people with anxiety because he was giving Yuuri a heart attack. No matter what the answer to that question was, Yuuri didn't answer, only stared fearfully at the stranger in his room, sitting on his bed. Viktor noticed his uneasiness.

"Or maybe I can tell you about myself, instead? That way you can just listen and think about whether or not you still want to talk?" 

When all Viktor got to his question was the same kicked-puppy look, the man took it as a 'yes'.

"Well, you know my name, and as I said, I'm Yuri's cousin, related by our fathers, who were brothers. We never saw much of each other when we were growing up because I rarely lived in the capital, but on the few times a year that Yuri and I hooked up as kids,  _damn,_ all of the pranks we pulled and the snacks we stole." Viktor not had a large, almost heart-shaped smile on his face as he reminisced about his past memories with his cousin. "With those little visits we would sometimes also meet up with Otabek, and that's when things would  _really_ heat up. I don't know if you've ever met him, but in the first zillion glances you would think that he's all dull and quiet and boring, but the thing is, when you put him with the people he feels the closest too, he's like a firecracker, and there is no stopping him." 

Time withered away slowly, but Yuuri wasn't really paying attention to it, too enthralled by the man's stories of growing up. He heard about all of the most exciting things of growing up as Viktor Nikiforov from the one time that Yuri broke his arm after taking one of Viktor's bets (Yuuri's wasn't sure what the bet actually was, because weirdly enough, Viktor never explained that part) to how Viktor once ate so much pirozhki in one sitting that he hasn't touched it since. It was a whole new experience that Viktor wasn't sure how to categorize because near the end of his spiel Viktor didn't quite feel like a stranger anymore. It was like those first two weeks that the blond has just talked to him, explaining little stories and memories while Yuuri laid on his bed, silent.

Viktor had just finished a tail about he and his dog, Makkachin, playing together on the beach when a huge wave had nearly "washed them all the way back home!" before falling quiet with a large smile on his face and his blue eyes swimming with happy emotions. 

"My name is Yuuri, by the way." Yuuri said softly, not looking the man in the eyes. Viktor made a happy sound and suddenly looked very giddy.

"Do you have a last name, Yuuri?"

Yuuri bit his lip, thinking about how his now-apparently-usual habit of letting people in too close, and having them leave (Chris, Sara, Michele, Yuri who hasn't come back to visit him like he always did after breakfast) but his heart won out so the omega found himself wondering silently if Viktor would actually stay, even though the depressing answer was unavoidable. 

"Katsuki."

"Hmmm.....Katsuki. It has a nice ring to it; I like it. Like I said earlier, I want to get to know you, so how about we stick to simple questions? Like....how old are you?"

Yet again, Yuuri wasn't sure how to answer this man, even if at all, but found himself doing it all the same. 

"Seventeen."

"Really? I thought Yuri told me that you were sixteen since you had your first heat just about a year ago, maybe even a little less, making you the appropriate age of fifteen when you presented. Or....am I wrong?"

"Um....not exactly? When Yuri asked me I was sixteen, but I s-sort of....already had my birthday?" Yuuri said sheepishly, his own had scratching the back of his head. "Last Wednesday was the twenty-ninth, right? Or is my time wrong?" 

Viktor stared openly at the omega before him for a few moments in shocked silence, making Yuuri highly uncomfortable with the attention. Did he say something wrong? With an inappropriate attitude? Yuuri knew how the barbarians that he used to live with hated it when he was "bratty". Just when he could feel the panic rising in his throat with the promise to choke him did Viktor blink and start to respond again to reality.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Ah...." Yuuri was almost becoming annoyed with how easily Viktor seemed to be able to confuse him and turn everything that he knew on it's head. "I didn't think I should. I mean, I haven't had someone care whether or not it was my birthday since....before I was captured really. Phichit and I never had a reliable way to tell the days apart from one another, so that doesn't count. Do people even do stuff like that for people like me?

"Yuuri? Seriously, you should have told Chris or Yuri that it was your birthday! And how ab--wait....Yuuri, what do you mean when you say 'people like me'?" There was a concerned expression framing the other's expressions as he gazed upon the younger's face.

"Well....omegas. We're....you know, not very liked generally without sex involved and-"

"Stop. Stop talking please." Groaned Viktor, and while somewhere in Yuuri's mind he was aware that the words had no ulterior or harsh motive behind them, Yuuri flinched at bowed his head, waiting for the hit to come. If he was anything like Yuuri's old masters, then it would probably be a slap across the face or a shove to the ground and a few kicks if he was particularly unlucky those days. Yuuri backed up further while Viktor was rubbing his face and this time, was doing everything in his power to keep the dam from breaking. No, now would be the  _worst_ time to have a panic attack he couldn't-

"Yuuri, listen to me, please." Viktor said, looking the scared omega in the eyes and nearly wincing. "I need you to know that here, you have no reason to worry, and I can promise you that. But out of the castle if you wander the wrong roads there will be alpha's and beta's that are  _exactly_ like that, as I'm sure you've had experience with." Yuuri's heart was racing. "I'm not trying to scare you but you need to know that people will try and force you into sex just because of your secondary gender. And if anyone does that, you just need to stand up for yourself." 

Yuuri was now starting to feel panicked again. Did this man have any idea what alpha's could do if omega's said 'no'?  _Did he have any idea?_

"And I don't just mean physically, because more times than not that won't work." Viktor was speaking with a soft tone now, not quite as urgent as before, letting out a soft and calming scent in an effort to help Yuuri calm down. "Scream, bang something, just let other people know that you are  _not_ comfortable with the situation, and much kinder people will start running to help you. Yuuri I-I know that you've been through some things, and I know that you most likely don't trust a word that I am saying, but just believe me in this. I know what I'm talking about here and if you heed my advice I promise that you won't have to worry."

"H-how?" Yuuri croaked. "How can you  _know._ "

"Because I'm an omega too, and I used to be scared when I was younger. Not as terrified as you, but then again I haven't been through the hell that you have. Yuuri people care about you, I promise. Chris, Sara, Michele, they all worry about you."

Yuuri was on the path to regaining his previous calm, and while he was aware of Viktor scooting closer and closer to him with every passing word, he didn't try and stop it. Instead, Yuuri faced him and studied everything that he could to see if he was lying. Viktor had the confidence that he had never seen before and Yuuri would think that it would fit better with an alpha or maybe even a strong beta, but it settled nicely with the masculine and--now all the more obvious with the reveal of his secondary gender--feminine sides. He looked strong, yes, but there was a vulnerable side to him too. His face had the structure of a man, but his eyes were ten times for expressive than any alpha's or beta's that Yuuri had ever seen. And now the most obvious was Viktor's scent, which was more like spring and flowers and fresh things, lacking the spice undertone of an alpha or neutral scent of a beta. How did Yuuri miss it before?

Yuuri snapped his attention away from his analytic thoughts and to the conversation that he was in the middle with with Viktor. 

"But they leave a lot. Even Chris isn't spending half as much time with me as before." Yuuri whispered.

Viktor smiled sadly. "That's life, Yuuri. Recently the war has been intensifying, and I know that you had no means of knowing that, but now that it is, everyone is having to carry more than their share. It's not you, just circumstances."

"What about your cousin then?"

"Yuri? What about him?"

"Is he going to get busy too?"

By now Viktor had successfully crawled his way across the bed and was sided up against Yuuri, and arm around the smaller omega.

"Yuuri, there is not another person out there in this world that cares for you more than my cousin. He doesn't understand why yet, and I don't think you do either, but it is as plain as day to my eyes, and I know that Mila and Otabek will have also picked up on it now too. And If my hunch is correct, then he will never ever leave you. Yes, there will be times when Yuri will have to depart from your side due to his duties as an emperor, but just know that as long as the sun still rises in the east and sets in the west, he will always come back."

"How can you know?" He couldn't help but ask why this older omega that was so unlike anyone else he had met was s certain that Yuri would be the first one in Yuuri's life to stay. What made him so sure? Viktor only knowingly smiled and ruffled Yuuri's hair.

"I'll tell you when you're older, but for now just understand that you can trust Yuri with your life." Viktor said it with a tone finality, like that statement was a fact written in stone. The silence that was shared between them was comfortable, and Yuuri found that this other omega's presence was in itself comforting on a different level than anything else that Yuuri had encountered. He ended up asking about it. 

"It's because we both share the same secondary gender. Our omega identities are essentially taking comfort in each other. Back before you or I were even born, when there was more omegas, they would always stick together, almost like how close alpha friends with sometimes form a pack. I thought you would have learned something like this from your parents, no?"

Yuuri felt like crying. Of course there was no reason that Viktor would have known that he was an orphan, but it hurt and made his heart clench painfully in his chest.

"They're....d-dead. I-I was taken away when I w-was five."

Viktor's breathing hitched, and he shook his head. 

"I'm sorry, Yuuri. I didn't know. Would you like me to teach you all the things that I've learned?"

Yuuri was about to say "no" and ask as polite as possible for Viktor to leave so he could cry in peace, but he couldn't do that anymore. No more wallowing in self-pity, no more crying about the past. From now on he would at least try to better things for himself. 

"I'd like that."

* * *

By the time that Viktor left the younger omega's room it was almost night and the stars were close to peaking through the clouds. Viktor didn't pass any of his friends who had called him hear, but he did rush into Minami and asked if the young servant could please help him locate the others. Viktor found his way to his room after that and waited, reviewing his encounter with the other omega. But before he could properly submerge himself in thought his little cousin was barging into his room and demanding what had happened, Otabek, Sara, Michele, Mila, and Chris close on his heels.

So Viktor recounted the whole thing, paying particular attention to the areas that he was sure needed to be addressed. 

"In short, I've gathered that his problem is that he doesn't understand that he is worth it, and fears that we all think that too. I told him that that wasn't true, and I'm sure that he only took my word for an inch, but I sincerely believe that we need to prove to him that he is worth everything for him to get better, mentally that is."

"So he's not just afraid of alpha's and beta's? It's just anxiety in a way?" Sara asked.

"Oh no, he was afraid of alpha's, definitely. But I think that I helped him with that."

"How?"

"I had a long discussion with Yuuri explaining how not all alpha's or beta's wouldn't attempt to rape him like those barbarians did. Most of us are actually very nice and would prefer courting first."

At the word "rape" everyone fell especially silent and the atmosphere in the room dampened tenfold. It just reminded everyone that Yuuri had been through more emotional and physical pain at fifteen than almost all of them.

"He's seventeen, now. His birthday was last week."

Yuri, who had been laying face-first onto the bed now snapped his head up and looked at Viktor with an incredulous expression.

"He told me that he was sixteen!"

"Well apparently at the time he was, but he didn't say anything because like I said earlier, he doesn't think that he deserves a lot. I think we should do something for him. Kind of like a tiny birthday celebration with people he feels relatively comfortable with."

"I think it should just be Yura." Otabek said in his normal, quiet manner. 

When Viktor raised an eyebrow in the alpha's direction, he only shrugged slightly, his way of saying  _you have every knowledge as to why I would have suggested that._ Frankly Viktor would have expected it from Mila or maybe even Chris, but while the comment wasn't normal Otabek behavior, it was well-known that Otabek didn't really have a "normal" behavior. He was blunt and quiet, saying far more words with his body than his mouth.

Mila grasped the idea with both hands.

"Yes! Yuri, he feels the most comfortable with you, and I think that a lot of people would bombard him and destroy the whole purpose of doing this."

"No, I don't think-" Yuri started, but Chris interrupted him.

"Yuri, you rescued him from the barbarian camp, saved him from drowning, befriended him and learned of his troubles before anyone else. I agree with Otabek and Sara; it should just be you."

Yuri still looked like he wanted to protest, but from his facial expression, Viktor could tell that he was warring with the idea.

"But what would I....do? How can I make him feel you know....cared for?"

"Your an alpha, he's an omega, let your instincts guide you. Start out with some light conversation and work your way further. Drop hits that you like him. Attempt cuddling, although I would advise against kissing for now." Michele added, a light smirk on his face.

"What?! I-I don't....like him like  _that!_ He's a friend, a-and he's-"

"Don't kid yourself, Yura. Even if it may not be clear to you it is quite obvious to the rest of us. I haven't even been here for a day and I can see that you two fancy each other!" Viktor exclaimed, a little exasperated at how thickheaded Yuri was being. 

"Each other? Ooh, that's new." Chris purred from his chair next to the bed. "Is this a hunch? Or did Yuuri really confide in you with something like that?"

"It's almost as obvious as Yuri's crush, but a little harder to find. I can imagine that it wouldn't take much persuasion on Yura's part at all to convince him."

Yuri's face was burning, and Viktor decided that he had had enough embarrassment for one day. Standing, he dragged his little cousin to his feet as well, pulling them both towards the door. Yuri followed, albeit a little slow. When they were halfway to Yuuri's bedroom, Viktor released is grasp on his blond cousin and gave him a gentle push forwards. 

"Go get him, tiger. From what I have heard you have been playing the caring bystander long enough. It's time for you to play the comforting alpha."

* * *

Yuri took a deep breath before swinging open the door on silent hinges. He stepped through into the dimmed room, Yuuri on his bed, looking slightly relaxed. The omega looked at him as he entered, but didn't give any indication that he was uncomfortable with the situation so far, so Yuri eased his way into the room as non-threateningly as possible. 

"I heard that it was your birthday a few days ago." Yuri started, not quite sure how to initiate the "light conversation" that Michele had hinted to. Yuuri nodded.

"Yeah."

"I didn't know, otherwise I would have found a gift for you, or maybe done something."

By now Yuri was next to the bed, a smile that he hoped looked natural on his face.

"It's okay, you don't have to."

"No, no, I want to. You're my....friend, Yuuri, and well....how about a birthday hug?" Yuri asked hopefully, holding his arms out some. He seemed to be fumbling with his words, too caught up in Yuuri's chocolate eyes and trying to gauge the omega's expressions.

Yuuri at first just stared at him, uncomprehending and a look of confusion as to why Yuri would want to hug  _him_ of all people, but then the puzzlement melted away to shyness before biting his lips in the most adorable manner and nodding slightly. 

"O-okay I guess. J-just a tiny one though."

And Yuuri let Yuri lean forwards and capture him in a hug with both of the alpha's arms. Yuri didn't speak out of fear of ruining the moment, but he prayed to the gods silently that the hug was conveying all of the feelings that Yuri felt with the depths of his heart.  _You're safe, Yuuri_ the blond thought,  _I promise you're safe._ When Yuuri pulled away, Yuri let him and again smiled at the omega. The atmosphere was now much less awkward, but Yuri wasn't sure what to do next. Should he leave? Stay?

"I'm sorry I missed our usual time together at breakfast today. Would you want to do that now? Pretend that it's not after supper and carry on like we usually do?"

Yet again Yuuri had those same few emotions of unease and confusion pass his features, but they were not nearly as strong and he smiled, which brightened Yuri's whole mood. He loved it when Yuuri smiled. It wasn't often that he would smile truly, but at times like these when he did it was magnificent. 

"Yes."

Before long, Yuri found himself laying next to Yuuri like he normally did (above the sheets mind you), and arm around him and a hand playing with the soft locks of ebony hair. In their usual fashion Yuri recounted the noticeable parts of his day and a few stories about his younger self, and Yuuri listened. It was only after a question he had asked of the omega did he realize that Yuuri had fallen asleep in his arms, eyes closed, breath even. Yuri sat there, admiring how angelic Yuuri looked in sleep, completely at peace with the world.

Yuri convinced himself that before long he would ease his arm from underneath Yuuri's head, just a few more minutes, but before he could act on it, Yuri was drifting off to sleep himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wiggles eyebrows* we're making progress, I guess Viktor and Yuuri's talk together really did out katsudon some good! 
> 
> Hope ya'll enjoyed that character development with Yuriyuu at the end and I'm sorry for spelling/grammatical mistakes! owo 
> 
> ahh, and Yuri's match-making friends, thank god for them stepping in otherwise I feel like nether of them would have made a move!


	10. What is love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just all about the Yuriyuu moments you guys have been asking for, and I really hope you like it! I'm on spring break, so I may be able to get you guys another chapter before I go back to school. Enjoy :)

Yuuri struggled awake, his first thoughts cursing his stupidity for somehow managing to drift off to sleep. Yuri and been telling him a story of....what was it again? _You fell asleep on him while he was talking and to make things worse you weren't even listening?! This is why-_

As the first three seconds upon his awakening passed, all thought fled from his mind and his anxiety froze in its tracks as he finally became aware of his physical surroundings. His heart skipped a beat when he realized that he had not just fallen asleep on Yuri, but _on top of him_ and that the blond was sleeping too, an arm slung protectively over his body and their legs a tangled mess, his nose in Yuuri's hair. And then there was his scent. Gods, it was amazing, like-like cinnamon and....sugar? Was that an undertone of apple? Yuuri didn't really know what was happening, only that it somehow fit his unknown definition of perfect. No, it was _right._ The feeling of Yuri completely enveloping Yuuri could only be described as _right._

It was like a blanket of warmth that Yuuri had draped over his whole body and all of his senses. The position stirred something instinctual inside of his gut, a primal side of him that basked in the scent and touch of the older man. He felt--strangely enough--happy and content. He was calmed, heart beating steadily in his chest in tune with the blond's. And Yuuri felt....

As the last thought pushed itself to the front of the omega's consciousness he became aware of how his body was running away with him. Yuuri was in the process of letting his primal side take the reins, which was not a good idea. Yuuri needed to remember where he was, and who he was with. Yuri Plisetsky, apparently the emperor of Yuuri's homeland, a million times more important than Yuuri himself, and with much more important things to be doing than snuggling up to someone like him.

Carefully, Yuuri wrapped his fingers around Yuri's wrist and lifted the alpha's hand from clutching at his waist and leaving it at the blond's side. Yuuri slowly turned to his side and crawled away, biting down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood when a sudden wiry arm pulled him backwards. The sleeping emperor shifted and muttered something unintelligible in slumber before falling still.

Yuuri wasn't quite sure what to do now. From the way that Yuri had reclaimed the omega, Yuuri's back was now flush against Yuri's chest, one of the alpha's arms possessively holding Yuuri tightly as if he was going to run away, the rest of the blond's body curling itself around the both of them. Yuuri couldn't stay like this with how the situation was making his body scream for one thing and his mind for another. Yuri's body heat, his scent, his physical presence caused Yuuri's head to manufacture delusions of....could he even say it? The mere idea was so far fetched and forced every other encounter that Yuuri had had with other human beings out the window. Every rule he gave himself to _protect himself,_ suddenly seemed invalid.

How was a handsome, sleeping blond doing this to him? How did he manage to tear down every remaining wall that Yuuri had painfully constructed, brick by bloody brick, reducing it to a broken pile of self-told lies?

But as Yuuri's mind raced, his physical apparition relaxed to his own bewilderment. In any other circumstance Yuuri would have already had a panic attack of massive proportions from the feeling of every moral he ever conceived crumbling to dust with each stroke of Yuri's thumb against his clothed abdomen, but strangely enough Yuuri's mind only resigned to the fact and accepted that Yuri was unknowingly uprooting his heart, and relaxed.

It was terrifying, but somehow it was comforting, knowing that he didn't feel like the same person he was a few minutes ago, all thanks to some kind of animal instinct reacting to the blond.

The second to last though that Yuuri had before falling back into slumber was how he had willingly called Yuri by his name. He had unconsciously tore down the rule he had set for himself not too long ago--reducing Yuri to "the blond" to create a barrier between them.

After the realization Yuuri's mind went blank and he laid in Yuri's arms for some lot of time just studying the night-time shadows on the walls and openly gazing at the glittering moon peeking through clouds outside his window. The moon changed everyday; less or more of itself shown nightly. Yuuri took comfort in it.

And as the relaxation spreading through his body and mind gave way to the leaden weight of exhaustion, Yuuri turned in Yuri's embrace and came to terms with his fate through one final thought before sleep took him, a faint smile of resignation on his lips as he admitted to the feeling that he had been miraculously been infused with.

Safe. As absurd and improbable as it was, Yuuri felt safe in Yuri's grasp. It was a foreign feeling that he wasn't quite sure to do with, but was somehow willing to stick around and see what became of it.

Safe, what a strange, miraculous emotion to embrace. Why had he thought that is was such a lie before?

But the question that Yuuri knew the key to very well wasn't answered for Yuuri had surrendered to blissful unconsciousness and was deep in slumber.

The next time that Yuri opened his eyes, sunlight was streaming from the windows to his right. At first, he thought that he was in his own room, but half a second later he became aware of the warmth pressed against his chest and the sweet, almost fruity smell that his nose was inhaling indefinitely. After a full four heartbeats of basking in the feeling, Yuri looked down to find him face to face with a mop of jet-black hair, the name of it's owner springing to mind immediately. Yuri felt his eyes go wide.

Yuuri was snuggled up into his arm, back pressed against his chest, limbs tangled, one of Yuri's own arms possessively entrapping the man. The young alpha blushed when he realized that the only thing separating them was the clothing that they wore, in Yuuri's case, a nightshirt that was too large, but ended up falling a six or so inches above the knee when standing, and Yuri wearing loose pants and a white shirt. The blush dusting his cheeks flamed up into a beet red that nearly flushed his whole body the same shade when the young alpha realized that the long shirt Yuuri was wearing was pushed up from sleep.

 _Holy shit_ Yuri thought, his heart beating in his chest and mind freezing. He felt like he was face-to-face with one of the crushes that he would develop at fourteen years old: a stuttering and blushing mess.

Pulling down Yuuri's shirt was easy enough, but slipping out of the bed proved harder than he anticipated. First off, he had completely cocooned himself around the sleeping omega, who was laying on his arm. Secondly, Yuri didn't _want_ to leave, even though he knew that he had to because Yuuri would most likely get anxious if he awoke to an alpha cuddled up to him. Yuri felt like this whole accidental position was right, and his primal instincts surged with the need for it to continue. _Stay stay stay stay stay_ was chanted internally no matter how hard Yuri tried to stop it.

He couldn't--shouldn't--stay, but was a few more minutes burn the magnificent image of Yuuri curled to a small ball of adorableness in Yuri's arms, the most peaceful and relaxed expression on his face, into his retinas all that bad?

Yuri brushed a stray lock of ebony hair from Yuuri's face to behind his ear. Then, upon realizing what he just did unconsciously, Yuri forced himself to relax and find a way out of this whole thing before he got too attached to Yuuri's sleeping form. With small, deliberate movements Yuri wedged his arm out from under the slumbering omega and freed his legs. _Should I?_ Yuri stopped the thought immediately and pried his fingers from their grip, slowly moving back to avoid Yuuri's feeling the mattress dip.

_Shit shit shit shit_

Yuri forced his eyes away from the sleeping form on the bed and stumbled out of the room. Normally, he and Yuuri just laid next to each other and talked, but _gods_ the both of them falling asleep seems to be both the best and one of the worst things that has happened to him. _What the hell is he doing to me?_

Yuri exhaled for seemingly the first time once he closed the door to his room and slumped against it, eyes closed, at a loss for what to do now. It was still early despite the apparent untimely sunrise, and while Otabek was probably already up and ready for the day, Yuri wasn't about to test that theory.

"I hope you realize that you _are_ going to tell me everything, right?"

Yuri jumped at the sudden voice and snapped his eyes open to find his older cousin, Viktor, laying upside down on Yuri's bed, his head hanging off of the side.

"Viktor, what the hell?"

"I had hopes that you would have come back later last night after you're little visit with Yuuri, but to my surprise, you never came back, so I went to my own room and came back a few minutes ago. Who do I find stumbling back into their room, rumpled from sleep?"

Yuri rolled his eyes and pushed himself off from the door, striding forward. Viktor smirked and sat up.

"So I think I need to know. Did you two snuggle up and whisper sweet nothings? Did you kiss?" Viktor made a kissy face and leaned towards the younger alpha standing in front of him, but Yuri just snorted and pushed him away.

"No, stupid."

"Then _what_ happened? Come on, I was one of the people to finally force your ass in there, plus I helped your omega friend trust you enough to _make_ last night happen; I think I deserve to know."

Yuri relented and explained how things had started a little awkwardly at first, but after they had laid next to each other in the platonic custom that they had adopted a few days ago and Yuri rambled about his happenings of the day, the tension had decreased dramatically. Then of course, Yuri had recounted them falling asleep unintentionally and the confusion mixed with happiness he had experienced with waking up next to the angelic omega in his arms.

"I have no idea why I even brushed the hair from his face. He wasn't awake, so there was no reason for me to worry about him not being able to see, it was just like I wanted to see more of his face! And I didn't want to leave; the alpha in me was like _no, don't leave him, stay_ and I _wanted_ to! I almost did! What the hell is he doing to me? Is it because of his secondary gender? Because I rescued him?"

Viktor chuckled and rubbed his younger cousin's hair.

"Love."

"What the hell?"

"L. O. V. E. Love. You've fallen in love."

"No," Yuri said shaking his head. "That's ridiculous."

"It really isn't."

"What's your proof? Or is this another one of your imagined theories?"

Yuri's voice sounded angry to his own ears, but he didn't really care. He couldn't love Yuuri, because it would hurt too much. He had loved his parents, deeply so, and they had been brutally murdered, ripping a hole in Yuri's chest that still hadn't healed fully and most likely wouldn't. He loves Otabek as a brother and a best friend and has had his heart stop multiple times over the past year witnessing a sword that was a millimeter shy of forcing the older alpha into a similar fate of Yuri's parents. He was scared, damnit! And he wouldn't admit it out loud but he was fucking terrified of loving people because people die, and when they die they leave holes in the world in the shape of their personalities, their routines, their laughs and jokes and insecurities, and those gaping holes can't be filled because they aren't coming back to stop them from becoming bottomless pits that are best to be avoided.

He had seem the way that Yuuri holds himself. He had over-analyzed every word that the younger man had said. Yuuri didn't think that much of himself, which was pretty easy to spot from even an outsider's perspective, but the sick genius of Yuuri's defensive mask was that he wanted you to see that in order to force attention away from his most pressing problem. Yuri didn't understand why someone so kind and pure would think shit about themselves, but that wasn't what scared him so much. What shook Yuri to his core was the fact that if you looked deep enough into the omega's soul, you could _see_ the result of that self-hatred.

Because Katsuki Yuuri, the omega that survived against all odds, wasn't so attached to life.

And while Yuri had seen this and everything in his head screamed for him to back away, to create a sizable distance between them so when Yuuri imploded Yuri would only be hurt by the shrapnel, not obliterated by the blast, he only got closer. Shared his life, his stories, spend time in his room, close enough to touch but not far enough to save himself. Yuri didn't know why he was reaching out like this when it went against every bit of logic he possessed, but he did it.

So yes, while him falling in love with Yuuri might have been the only motive of his that he didn't consider in trying to explain his actions, the thing was Yuri _would not_ admit it in his head or out loud because then he would not be able to back away. Denial. What a beautiful fucking thing.

"You were acting out of the caring instinct of an alpha. You referred to him as 'angelic' and you didn't want to leave him."

"That doesn't prove anything!" Yuri said, irritated and wanting this whole conversation to be over, but knew that it wouldn't because he couldn't explain to his older cousin that he couldn't be in love because it would destroy him to lose someone else that he loved.

"Okay, fine. What did he smell like, then?"

"Perfect." Was the first thing that Yuri's mouth blurted out, and he wasn't even all that aware of it until after the word tumbled past his lips, making him blush and try to save his dignity. "Wait...no, that's not what I meant! It's like....spring."

"Spring?" Viktor drawled, dead-pan.

"Yeah, fresh things that are full of life. Like the smell of flowers blooming and....petrichor. You know, that earthy smell right before rain when you can just _tell_ that a storm is coming....like that."

Yuri had adopted a slightly spaced-out expression during his description, and Viktor had just nodded the whole time.

"Yep. You have every symptom. Your instincts, your protective nature coming out even more than usual, your reaction to his omegan scent; you sir, are in love, and I suspect that Yuuri also feels the same. If he's anything like you, however, he's also clueless to the fact."

"I care for him because he's a friend, but I don't think I-"

"Yuri, leave the denial stage, it doesn't suit you. And for gods' sake you need to get him on a date! Most alpha's would have already started the courting process and by you two hanging in this imbalance you are forcing your bodies to do the talking. Yuuri fell asleep on you; he trusts you. Immensely. You two snuggled up together in sleep; that's called the desire for physical contact that presents itself when and alpha and an omega are incredibly close. Something's gotta give, Yuri." Now it was Viktor's turn to be annoyed over his cousin's obliviousness.

"Well what the hell do you want me to do?" Yuri shot back, huffing and crossing his arms. His position was a little childish, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough. Wordlessly, Viktor sat up and pulled the young emperor down the hallway.

"We are going to go find Chris, and then you are going to practice your swordplay."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You've been slacking since you were stabbed and you need to keep up on that if you ever want to go back to the front lines, but you also think the best while in mid-exercise."

* * *

Three hours later, Yuri and Chris were still in the training yard. Yuri had sweat dripping down his eyes and his sword was uncomfortable in his grasp. His opponent in front of him was still looking refreshed, the only sign of exhaustment a faint pink on his cheeks. Yuri had forgotten how inhumanly advanced Chris was with a sword, wielding the blade like an extension of his own body.

"Getting tired already, Yuri?"

"Shu....shut up!" He panted. 

Chris chuckled.

"Again!"

And all of the sudden Yuri was just about fighting for his life. Chris wouldn't have hurt him with the sword, but where in the battlefield it would have been a killing blow, Yuri received a new bruise from the hilt or an elbow. 

Blades flashing in the sunlight, Chris led Yuri across the yard in a lightning fast series of strikes, a parry here, a thrust there, it was all Yuri could do to keep up and throw in an offensive blow when he could. 

"Yuri, you haven't been keeping up with your exercises, haven't you?"

"Have you finally realized it!" He shouted, a wave of anger making him push his body harder, leaning into the confrontation, not away from it.  _You are fucking going down._ His new surge of anger brought a tiny reserve of strength with it, and Yuri was able to deliver a kick to his friend's side without missing a beat, but his mistake was letting it get to him. Yuri knew that one of his main problems was not a lack of ability for he had always had a knack for swordplay, but when he was facing one of the more skilled marksmen, Yuri tended to get cocky. 

"This might be one of those rare times when I finally beat you-" Yuri was cut off as an elbow slammed into his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs. Yuri reflexively stumbled backwards and fell onto his back from a misstep. Yuri groaned and covered his face so he didn't have to see Chris' smiling one. 

"Cocky again, Yuri. Your form is still as close to perfect that you've always had it, but you're distracted and not focusing on the move that your opponent is going to deliver next. You're reacting when you need to be acting."

"Easier said not done." Yuri sat up and grabbed Chris' hand, letting the older alpha pull him up. Chris snorted.

"Yuri, you were able to do it with ease before you left for the war and I suspect that the constant facing of death didn't damped your skills, but lack of training has, so from now on you and I are going to be spending a lot of time honing the skills that you seemingly have forgotten. For now, you can go; I don't want you collapsing on me."

Standing on jelly-like legs, Yuri made his way from the training yard to the baths after depositing his sword in his room and asking Minami to get him a new set of clothing for when he was finished cleaning up. 

He groaned as he submerged himself in the warm waters of the baths, the heat working wonders for his sore muscles. Yuri examined the bruises blossoming on his skin like sickly green and purple shades in the shapes of flowers. They weren't too bad, but then again, they weren't the kind of bruises that would disappear within a day, either. 

* * *

Yuri stomped every step on his way to his room. He was fuming from spending the past few hours stuck in the same room as  _Lord Jean fucking Jacques,_ the pig-headed idiot! He had a large amount of responsibilities that naturally came with his job of being emperor, but making sure that all of the lords and ladies under his rule were relatively content was the most annoying one of them all! Especially when Yuri had to deal with the one and only Jean-Jacques Leroy who didn't seem to grasp the fact that he needed to get he couldn't just hide away in his castle all day and expect the war to dissolve on itself! 

Thoroughly pissed off at the world, Yuri made his way down the hall, grumbling about how fucked the whole situation was for all of them if this goddamn war didn't end soon. Yuri passed the entrance to the courtyard when he heard voices and a snatch of conversation. Normally, he wouldn't have paid any mind to it, but he recognized one of the voices as Yuuri's, and he froze in his tracks.

Yuri couldn't make out what was being said, but then Yuuri and his company laughed. 

Suddenly curious and a little jealous over who was making the young omega laugh like that, Yuri found himself forgetting his previous plan to work out his rage in his room, alone, and following the laughter into the garden, where he found Yuuri and Michele in front of the fountain. They both had side smiles on their faces and Yuuri looked relatively relaxed in the beta's presence. 

Telling himself that he was  _not_ suffering from jealousy, Yuri's feet propelled him forwards. Michele spotted him first and grinned at the young emperor. 

"Yuri, you're just in time. I needed to help Sara with something, and I didn't want to leave Yuuri alone, but looks like I don't have to!" He called cheerily. From his face, Yuri could tell that this was anything but coincidental, but he tried to not pay any mind to it.

"How lucky."

"Yeah, I know. I'll see you later, Yuuri." Michele stood and ruffled the omega's hair once before walking back towards where Yuri made his entrance. Leaning over in as he left, Michele whispered into Yuri's ear.

"Go get him, tiger."

Yuri had to physically restrain himself from eye-rolling because Yuuri was looking at him with a large smile. Viktor must have spilled the conversation they had with their friends. Jerk. He couldn't keep a secret for his life and Yuri should have known better than confide in him. If he wanted secrecy than he should have gone to Otabek, which speaking of, Yuri hadn't seen him all day. The blond made a mental note to stop by his room after he was finished here with Yuuri. 

Sitting down next to the younger man, Yuri looked over at his friend and nudged him with his shoulder. 

"Should we continue like always?"

And that was how he found himself talking animatedly about how his day had started off with an annoying conversation (although no matter how much Yuuri pestered him he didn't explain just  _what_ that conversation was about) and the follow up with Chris. Just when he was starting to grumble about that damned Lord Leroy, Yuuri stood and pulled Yuri up with him, slowly walking through the gardens. Yuri continued with the play-by-play that he was giving the omega without missing a beat. By the time that he had finished, they were somewhere around the middle, where the roses were. The sun was in the process of setting at this point and the stars were just peeking through alongside the moon. 

"But yeah, my day's been great." He concluded with a sigh. Beside him Yuuri was silent, but attentive, nodding his head to show that he was listening. Suddenly feeling a little apprehensive, Yuri reopened his mouth.

"What about you? Do anything fun?" 

Most--no all--of the time Yuri hadn't really asked questions in fear of pushing Yuuri back into his shell. He wasn't sure why he wanted to incorporate a question now, but granted he wasn't quite sure why he was doing much of anything anymore. 

"I....well I hung out with Viktor a little, and then when Sara and Mila came to check on me we ended up talking for a while. I-I came out here at some point and that was where Michele found me. And now...." Yuuri trailed off and Yuri made the observation that he was nervous about something. He kept darting his eyes in Yuri's direction, a question in his silent gaze. 

They fell into silence, and while it wasn't as comfortable as it normally is when they are laying on Yuuri's bed, both staring up at the ceiling, it was still devoid of almost all tension, which both parties appreciated greatly. 

As the silence stretched, Yuri's mind wandered, and he found himself thinking about earlier this morning; back to his conversation with Viktor.  _you sir, are in love, and I suspect that Yuuri also feels the same._  Was the first thing that came to mind, which still made him feel uneasy. Could that air-head be right? Was he in love? The idea of loving someone else who could leave this Earth in an instant still terrified him, but he had analyzed a hell of a lot of himself while sparring with Chris, and he was sure in the fact that he would have to love someone else besides Otabek--romantically or platonically--at some point in his life, why not now? _Something's gotta give, Yuri_ echoed in his head.

_But what's gotta give!_

Yuri wanted to scream. He still wanted to deny that he was in love. He wanted to shout it out so everyone could hear him and be undoubting of his  _friendship_ with the omega, but as Yuri cast a gaze at his company, he could feel his heart stutter from the sight of Yuuri's faint smile on his lips, the last, faint rays of sunlight dancing on his skin. 

 _Okay, so maybe I have a crush. A simple crush on someone that is really attractive._ Yuri again glanced at Yuuri.  _And maybe also adorable._

"My mother used to have roses like these in our garden, though not so many." Yuuri said, brushing the pads of his fingers over the petals of a deep red rose. "She would always plant the same ones because she thought that they were good luck. Every birthday or holiday she would cut a few from the stalks and place them in a vase in the kitchen." Yuuri smiled, but it was laced with melancholy. "My first day of ballet class she pinned one to my shirt for good luck."

"You took ballet?" Yuri asked, a little surprised. From what he could piece together with the brief descriptions Yuuri had given him of his home, it was a small trading village, and normally simple things like ballet were taught in cities.

"Yeah. There was a teacher that had moved to our village from one of the northern cities before I was born. Minako-san."

Yuri hummed to supply his acknowledgement of Yuuri's story, reaching over to the plants beside them and pulling one of the roses from its stem. Recently he had found his body performing on autopilot around the omega, and now was no different, so Yuri just let his instincts guide him. He flicked off all of the thorns to avoid injury to either of them and grabbed Yuuri's hand silently. Yuri gave him the rose.

"For good luck." was all he said.

Yuuri stared at Yuri for a moment before smiling, the melancholy gone.

"For good luck." Yuuri repeats, his voice gentle, but quiet.

After a second of thought, Yuri made a move to let go, thinking about how Yuuri isn't one for physical contact, but the younger man surprises him. Yuuri merely shifts the rose in his right hand to his left and with shaky fingers grabs back onto Yuri's. The young emperor looks down at his company for a moment, stunned at the un-Yuuri-like behavior. Under his gaze Yuuri starts to bite his lip and look down, the brief confidence gone. Coming out of his stupor, Yuri squeezed the hand in his grasp if only just to sooth the omega beside him. 

_For good luck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie, I almost made them kiss in this chapter, but then I figured that that would be way too soon, so unfortunately, it will have to wait *sigh*
> 
> in other news, I just want to thank you all for being awesome, with all of the kudos and comments you guys are giving me *hugs you all* thank you!
> 
> next chapter is going to (hopefully) climax the Yuriyuu relationship in the beginning, but then the ending isn't going to be too happy, a a few of you may yell at me, but that's okay
> 
> Until next time! <3
> 
> (for those of you that celebrate it, happy Easter!)


	11. Don't Leave, Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone :) I apologize to everyone in advance, this chapter (in the end at least) may annoy some (most) of you
> 
> JUST TO BE CLEAR in the beginning it may be worded weirdly b/c sometimes writing can be a little crappy (sometimes? little? more like at least half the time) and my vocabulary was failing me, so to be clear, Yuuri does not yet love Yuri. They are sort of like bff's now, but to Yuuri, they are not lovers and no where near it. (it's later where things *coughs* heat up a little bit)
> 
> Also, this fic is set in the past, you know before guns and cars and all that jazz, so I'm sorry for historical inaccuracy, but you are more than welcome to point mistakes out to me ^^
> 
> And finally, recently I have gotten a total of 19 comments from 3 separate users that are telling me to "stop supporting pedophilia" and "ship legit pairs, not this bullshit" and I am asking for this to please stop in a public way because me attempting to solve this privately hasn't been working. I respect that you have an opinion, but in here, Yuuri is 17 (legal age in some countries) and Yuri is 19 (legal age in 98% of all countries), plus, they haven't been in sexual situations so there is no pedophilia. I have deleted these comments because they are hurtful to me, my readers, and fellow shippers and I don't want them to think that they should stop reading something that they enjoy because of hateful words. No one is making you read Yuriyuu fics and if you don't enjoy then then please don't comment hateful things, because some of the stuff that has been commented to me over the last week has been tear-worthy. Again, please stop. I will not name names, but if it continues I'll do more than just delete comments b/c here in the US that is considered harassment, and I don't have much tolerance for it.
> 
> Thank you, and I'm sorry to all of my lovely readers that just wasted their time reading that. Anyways, enjoy the chapter :)

Yuuri folded his hands together in his lap, more than a little nervous to be traveling outside of the protective walls of the emperor's castle. It had been a few days since he had traveled the garden along with Yuri, but in the days that followed Yuuri was disappointed with the lack of time they had spent together. Yuri had been forced to attend all sorts of meetings with important people due to the war accelerating around them, bad spiraling to worst from what Yuuri could tell. He wasn't quite sure  _what_ had happened in the garden, but he had thought that it had united them on a separate level than any of the other people that affectionately called themselves his friends.

He had shared a story of his childhood--a memory that he held dear to his heart--with an alpha that had magically wormed his way into Yuuri's heart faster than anyone else has. The feat itself was in the fact that Yuuri had fought the friendship in the beginning, but now was almost completely comfortable with it. It felt natural.

Ever since he had fallen asleep that night with Yuri's fingers combing his hair,  _something_ in Yuuri's heart had snapped, but not painfully, from what he could tell. It was the snap of his walls falling apart because since then his level of comfort that he had with this alpha that he had only known properly for a few weeks had skyrocketed. Suddenly he was hyper-aware of when Yuri seemed to be near him with gods damn that scent of his. That cinnamon-y, apple-y scent of the blond's was going to drive Yuuri insane, he just knew it. It was like a blanket just suffusing him with warmth and happy feelings. Gods it was a drug and Yuuri was an unsuspecting addict.

The scary thing was that while he was wary of his sudden attachment to the young emperor and aware of how this could go horribly wrong, slamming him into the dirt and leaving him even more broken than he was now, Yuuri was seemingly content with the fact. He was dooming himself, he just knew it. 

Yuuri wasn't aware that he was giving off a feeling of uneasiness from his thoughts causing his emotions to bleed into his scent until Yuri--speak of the devil--reached over and clasped one of their hands together in comfort, squeezing tightly for a few seconds and then letting go. The gesture was simple, but it had also left the distinct impression of more tranquility than it would have if anyone else had attempted it, and yet again Yuuri was blaming that alpha scent of his. Ever since that incident that had the both of them spending a night cuddled up together had changed the way his body saw the young blond, making it so much easier for Yuri to calm him down. Yuuri had pressed the issue with Viktor after he had first noticed it, but the older omega had assured him that it was just his body accepting Yuri as a friend and reliable ally.

Yuuri wasn't so sure that that was the whole truth, but he didn't try the matter further.

Dragging himself out of his thoughts, Yuuri turned his gaze to outside the window. He was supposed to be enjoying this; time to act like it.

As it turned out the task was not as horrible as he had once thought because upon the realization that he had never once been to a place where the population was above a hundred (consciously at least, because apparently he had spent quite some time at the army camp while trying to recover after rescue), his inner child exploded, taking over his thoughts, as impossible as it seemed, for he had believed that his inner child had died along with his family that dark night.

But by the gods he was in a city and there were buildings that were huge, even multiple stories high! And they weren't built from just wood and thatch either, but stone and plaster and stucco, the wood peeking through in some areas and highlighting some of the more modern-looking buildings. Market stalls were open and a myriad of goods were spread out on the surfaces, tellers calling out prices to the throngs of people shuffling this way and that. The space was alive with the sound of pleasant chatter and laughter. Signs that hung over the cobblestone streets were painted all sorts of colors.

In short, Yuuri was in awe of his surroundings, momentarily forgetting why he was apprehensive in the first place.

He didn't hear the light chuckle from Viktor sitting across from him at his delight, nor did he even properly realize that the carriage had parked until the older omega was tugging at his sleeve. 

"Yuuri, come on, this is our stop." 

Yuuri blinked and came out of his stupor, blushing at his behavior and nodding, climbing out of the carriage door and planting his feet onto the ground. The whole reason for this trip was for the fact that Yuri needed to check up on the duke that lived in the capital. Apparently, he was a conceited fool that had no idea how to go about life in a humble way, but he was competent enough to carry out his job, so he was not formally removed from duty. He was demanding compensation for the most recent assassination attempt on his life--organized by his subjects--and Yuri would have normally waved the problem aside, but this duke had a powerful father with many friends, so Yuri was taking the courtesy to express his  _displeasure_ with how he was being distracted from what really mattered in person. Viktor had heard about his plans to travel into the city and practically begged for he and Yuuri to tag along, which eventually Yuri agreed to, as long as they didn't wander too far and stayed together. Yuri had tried to persuade Viktor to take a guard or two because of their secondary genders and the vulnerability that ensued, but Viktor had vehemently refused, scandalized by the idea.

"Wait." Yuri said, and Yuuri turned to find the tall and strong blond that he had come to know very well biting his lip and for one of the first times, looking anxious. Yuri jammed his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pendant on a short chain, grabbing Yuuri's wrist and depositing the small charm into the omega's palm, using his own hand to curl Yuuri's fingers around it.

Yuuri blinked in surprise before bringing necklace closer to his face to examine it. It was made of a pale metal that sparkled in the sunlight, half a dozen smooth curb chains aligned in rows, comprised of minuscule links so small Yuuri could barely make out each individual coupling. The pendant was rectangular and made of the same material, although it did not hang like any other normal pendant, but was designed so the chains sprouted from the sides. A cobalt-blue gem was fitted to the front the same size as the pendant itself. A tiny shield with a roaring tiger was set in front of the deep-blue gem, this time the metal a silver in color. Upon a closer inspection, Yuuri saw the miniature letters  _YP_ too, the  _Y_ on the upper left and the  _P_ on the lower right on the shield. It was the Yuri's personal coat of arms from his status of emperor.

"I know that this is the capital and most people here are relatively open-minded compared to other provinces, but there are still....you know....assholes that would try to take advantage of you. But it's sort of like protection. Show that to someone and they'll recognize it. If they have any sense they'll leave you alone. Viktor has one too, and he says that it works for him." Yuri blushed a little, nothing more than a light rose dusting his cheeks but it was certainly a new experience to see the fearless leader adopt a mild expression of vulnerability. "Just in case you run into trouble."

Yuuri looked back at Viktor, who grinned from ear to ear and nodded, hooking a finger in his collar to pull it aside, revealing a similar looking piece of jewelry around his neck, flush with the pale skin and not dangling down like any other jewelry Yuuri had encountered. 

"Go on, put it on. We haven't got much time for me to drag you everywhere; we've got to get going!" Viktor exasperated dramatically in his usual fashion. 

Yuuri nodded, feeling a little stupid for just staring at the small pile of metal in his palm. He fashioned the clasp behind his neck, a little surprised that the chain fit snug around his throat, not quite uncomfortable but noticeable. The metal was cool against his skin. He looked at Yuri for an explanation as to why it was so tight, but the alpha just looked a bit sheepish.

"Sorry that it's so tight, but it's tradition for a piece of jewelry with my seal on it to be worn as a choker. I can get you another pendant on an actual necklace, but it would take me a while to convince the beta that makes them to bend customs, and I had it made in a rush. I'd just feel a lot more comfortable with you wearing it _without_ guards." The last few words were directed at Viktor with a stern expression, but the older omega just waved him off.

"Yeah yeah, I get it you don't approve, but guards are slow and clumsy and they would attract attention to us. This way we blend in with the rest of the crowd, especially since I personally hate dressing like a noble and Yuuri here only owns modest clothing to begin with."

Viktor took Yuuri's arm and started dragging them away. 

"Quick, before the worrywart changes his mind." he whispered into Yuuri's ear.

"Just be careful!" Yuri called out behind them. Yuuri and Viktor were already more than a dozen meters away, so Viktor only using a simple hand gesture in acknowledgement, rolling his eyes in the process.

Yuuri turned to wave at Yuri behind them because his mother and father were quick to stamp politeness into his bones even at his young age, but the crowd had already swallowed them up and Yuri nor the carriage was in sight. A sinking feeling started to settle in his stomach at the loss of familiarity and a possible escape route, but Viktor--who still had his arm--tugged him in a different direction, turning Yuuri away from his thoughts. 

"Yuuri! Over here!" 

Muttering apologies to the people that he bumped into due to Viktor's antics, Yuuri meekly followed the tall omega, who had taken them to one of the smaller wooden stands in the market. An older woman greeted them with a smile, asking what they wanted, which Viktor answered to. She called out behind her what Viktor had said and Yuuri could hear the sound of a few other voices in response from behind the curtain sectioning the market stall off. Viktor paid with a few coins from his pocket just as a younger man about their age pushed the worn curtain aside, a tray with three paper cones, round balls inside. From what Yuuri could see, the man resembled the woman, so they must have been related somehow.

Viktor took what was on the man's tray and handed one to Yuuri, leading them away from the stand.

"Here, this is ponchiki. It's fried dough with powdered sugar on top." Viktor said, already digging into his. "This last one is for Yuri because he has always loved these things, but if you like them we can always swing back before we leave."

Yuuri looked down at the food in his hand and picked up one of the balls before biting into it, immediately loving how it tasted. It was light and almost fluffy, the sugar a wonderful contrast to the slightly crunchy outer shell from the frying. Before he even knew it, he had eaten all of the contents of his paper cone. Viktor chuckled at him and handed the last one from his own portion. 

"See? I knew you would like them."

The next few hours were spent hopping from one stall to the other, sampling foods and marveling at small knick-knacks or jewelry. Some of the stores were selling clothing and spools of cloth while others had more types of fresh fruit than Yuuri even knew existed. Viktor had him try all sorts of things, including other foods like cheburek and blini, but so far nothing had beaten the pirozhki that they had encountered.

It surprised him, to say the least, that he was having the most fun--wandering around and doing all sorts of nothing--he had ever had. In all of his limited memories of him as a child, they were nothing quite like this.

Viktor had sworn up and down that if Yuuri saw anything that he had wanted to buy he would cover it completely, but he was hesitant to take him up on that offer. It wasn't like he had money back in his room to repay the silver-haired man that had taken him under his wing, nor could he even really work to make up for it. He had recovered almost completely from his imprisonment with the barbarians, but he had never had much muscle mass even when he was healthy--and especially not now in his weakened state--so he couldn't work it off either. So while Viktor bought all sorts of trinkets, Yuuri just watched. 

That was at least, until a tiny stall, no bigger than two people across, caught his eye. Unconsciously, he let go of Viktor's coat sleeve and his feet carried him past the crowds until he was standing in front of a weathered old man wearing ragged clothing and no hair on his head or face besides a wispy beard. He smiled and the lines in his leathery skin widened, crows feet at the corners of his eyes. 

"Hello." Yuuri said uneasily, still more than a little unsure as to why he had wandered this way. The man only smiled again and leaned down, his joints creaking in protest as he grabbed something out of Yuuri's eyesight. 

"I think I have somethin' that you'd be interested in." The man set a small box on the warped wooden plank serving as the top of a stall.

"How?" Yuuri asked. Normally in situations like these he would be panicking as to why this stranger apparently knew that there was something that he wanted when he didn't even know what it was. Strangely enough, he felt calm.

"Not many people see my stand 'cause it is so small. And," he tapped his left temple, "I can see it in your eyes." The man lifted the lip of the box and settled in the folds of what looked like satin were multiple small bands of grey metal, all lined up. Alongside the bands and taking up most of the space in the hand-sized box were twenty or so rods of metal, stacked up and each no bigger than a finger. One of the ends of each rod were carved to form a shape, but Yuuri couldn't tell what of. The old man leaned back into his chair.

"Tell me about yourself."

"Um....I-I don't think so. I think I should be going now." Yuuri said, starting to feel a little uneasy with the whole situation.

The man raised an eyebrow, but it wasn't out of anger or annoyance, but amusement.

"Sure? I'm a very good listener."

"I-I don't have any money." Unconsciously Yuuri found himself drawn to the chair on the other side of the market stall, sitting in the rickety chair.

"I wasn't asking for any." 

There was something about this old man who looked ancient, sitting there in that small wooden chair. His eyes sparkled with what seemed like a secret that only he knew, and it drew in the young omega. For not the first time Yuuri found himself wondering why he even ended up here, but the man emitted such a feeling of ease that was only rivaled by Yuri's, Viktor's, or Chris' presences, so he didn't run.

The man didn't press or ask the question again. He just leaned back and closed his eyes in waiting. 

"My name is Yuuri. I....don't have that many friends and I'm anxious a lot. I....I don't know what you're looking for but I'm nothing special."

At this, the man's eyebrows rocketed to the top of his face, humming in acknowledgement and sitting still for another few moments before opening his eyes and sitting straight in his chair. He grabbed the metal rods in the box and started sorting through them, squinting hard at the miniature engraved symbols on the ends. 

"Not special, huh? Well I beg to differ." 

Yuuri didn't bother to correct him but only watched as he took a few of the rods into his wrinkly and bony hands, setting the rest back into the box and picking one of the metal bands out. The man closed the lid of the box and slipped the blank ring over one of the rods--the only one with no engraving on the bottom. 

"I've seen that coat of arms peekin' from your collar an' it belongs to the emperor. An' if I know anything, it's that Lord Yuri keeps to 'mself, so you must be more than just special."

This time Yuuri nearly let out a gasp of surprise at the old man's observation, a hand flying up to the jewelry snug against his neck. Viktor commonly wore shirts with high necklines, so he had no fear of broadcasting the emperor's seal to any onlookers, but Yuuri wasn't prepared for the gift, so his shirt wasn't practical for completely hiding the choker, but Yuuri had thought that the parts showing were minuscule at best. Obviously he was wrong or this man wouldn't have been able to recognize it. 

Yuuri turned his attention back to the old man, his fingers still not unclasped from the pendant flush against his throat. Yuuri was now fighting to stop the suspicion from entering his scent as he watched the man pull a brass hammer from somewhere out of sight and position one of the engraved rods against the metal band. Raising the hammer, the man brought it down onto the rod and a dull  _clang_ rang out. Yuuri flinched upon impact. The man pulled away the rod and replaced it with another, this time in a slightly different position, banging the hammer on that rod too. He repeated the process until he had used all of the rods he had cast out on the top of the stall. He twisted the ring off of the rod of metal that it was on earlier and brought it close to inspection before nodding to himself and reaching down yet again, placing two vials of liquid and what looking like a paintbrush on the wood. Squinting so hard that Yuuri wasn't sure how he could even see, the man dipped the frail paintbrush into the vials and filled in the cavities of the ring made by the engraved rods, rubbing the brush on his pants when he switched vials. Upon finishing his task, the man nodded again to himself before holding it out for the young omega to see. Yuuri was sitting on the edge of his seat, ready to run in a moment's notice, but he gingerly took the ring from the weathered man. 

The symbols were even smaller than the ones on his pendant from Yuri, but he could just make out what they were supposed to be. In the center on the band was the ouroboros, stretched out so it wasn't in a complete circle but in the shape of and eight. Set behind the ouroboros, so it was not the focus, was a circle with a vertical line straight through, four little appendages sprouting, two on the top and two on the bottom; Yuuri didn't know what it meant. The ouroboros was highlighted in black, the unknown symbol's cavities filled in with a grey superior to the metal around it.

"It's beautiful." Yuuri breathed, because it was. The marksmanship was simple but magnificent enough to speak volumes for the artist. Yet again the man nodded.

"It's yours." he said with finality.

"B-But I can't pay you!"

"I know."

"Surely you deserve-"

"No," the man interrupted with a hand in the air. "It is a gift. I have been acquainted with the young emperor a few times myself, and he has an extraordinary judgement of character. If you 'ave earned the privilege to wear his seal upon your throat then  _you_ deserve this. I will not take money."

Yuuri stared at this old, wrinkled man for a few moments, aware of not much besides his heart pounding in his chest, thinking of a way to thank this man for the gift that he had given Yuuri. An idea struck him.

"Here," Yuuri said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out what was left of his blini, the uneaten and saved-for-later food still wrapped. Yuuri pressed it into the man's hands. "Then take this." Yuuri saw the man's mouth open in obvious rejection, but Yuuri beat him to the punch. "It's a gift. I insist.", with a small quirk of his lips. The man smiled himself before nodding once again for a final time. Yuuri bid him goodbye, before turning around, slipping the ring on his finger.

It was then that the sinking feeling of dread set deep into his gut. When he left Viktor's side, he hadn't said anything to the much taller man, nor even looked to where Viktor was headed. The older omega could be anywhere by now, and if he had even noticed Yuuri's absence was another matter altogether. Would Viktor come looking for him? Would he have to find his own way back to the castle? 

Yuuri's anxiety was increasing tenfold with every second, and in seconds he was almost hyperventilating as the crowd swallowed him, seemingly to push closer and closer. These people had before seemed harmless and had excited wonder and awe over so many people in one space, but now they were just filling him with dread. _What was he thinking, running off like that?_

A hand wrapped itself around Yuuri's upper arm and pulled him back into a broad chest. Yuuri managed to stifle his scream with slapping a palm over his own mouth, the action already being performed by the time that he caught up with his surroundings and realized that the comforting scent surrounding him belonged to someone he knew. It was similar to his own and Yuuri let himself relax, swallowing a cry of relief.

It was Viktor. Viktor had found him.

"Yuuri! Are you alright?" Viktor asked, voice sounding a little panicked. Yuuri nodded against Viktor's chest, fists clenching into his shirt in relief. "Why did you run off like that? I was worried sick! I thought something horrible had happened to you!" Viktor continued. His tone was difficult of discern, but the worry was tangible for it bled into his normally strictly comforting scent and Yuuri felt genuinely ashamed for causing the older man such emotional turmoil. Yuuri didn't answer out loud at first, only hugged Viktor back tighter and swallowed thickly.

"N-no, I'm fine, Viktor. I'm o-okay. There was a m-market stand, and I know it was s-stupid, but I went over." Yuuri pulled away enough to show Viktor the ring on his finger, but still didn't get farther than a few inches. "There was this old man all by himself and he made this f-for me as a gift and told me that he met Yuri."

The frown etched into Viktor's features lessened slightly at the mention of the old man and he took a careful look at the ring.

"Yes. I remember Yuri telling me about him. He's notorious around here for his tiny stall. Not much bigger than one or two people across?"

"Yeah."

"Than it was him. He makes beautiful work; I haven't seen anything like this from him before though. If my education serves me correctly than you have the greek symbol for....perseverance? As well as an ouroboro on yours. Interesting." 

Yuuri looked back down on his ring, studying the symbol that he wasn't sure of. Is that what it meant? How did perseverance apply to him of all people?

"I'm sorry, Viktor." Yuuri said quietly, bowing his head in apology. Viktor sighed, but steered them in the opposite direction.

"It's okay, Yuuri, I forgive you. I'm just happy that you're safe. Come on, Yuri will be around to pick us up soon so we should get back to where we started."

The rest of the way was walked in silence, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one, neither letting go of each other as they navigated the thick crowds of people. Within twenty minutes, they were back to the beginning of their journey, off to the side of the street to stay out of the way of the passing masses. Yuuri felt better with the close contact of Viktor, and he could now think happily back at all of the fun and exciting things that they had done today. 

While casually looking down the street, Yuuri spied what he thought was the top of Yuri's carriage. 

A large hand wrapped itself around his collar and yanked back hard enough to make Yuuri let out a strangled sound from his windpipe rapidly being closed for a heartbeat or two. Yuuri wasn't strong enough to keep his hold of Viktor's sleeve so it was torn from his fingertips as another hand covered his mouth and stopped him from letting out another sound of distress. He was dragged backwards a few feet so he and his attacker were hidden from the majority of public view.

Yuuri started to panic. His heartbeat started to race and the anxiety attack that was claiming his senses made his earlier episode look like child's play.  _No not again! Please!_ Yuuri struggled as much as he could, but the man that was holding him in his burly arms was physically superior in every way; he didn't stand a chance, but that didn't stop him from trying.

Then he was yet again jerked to the side out of harm's way before a body slammed into the man who had grabbed him. Yuuri caught a flash of silver first, and then the rest of the picture before him was processed by his brain. Viktor was standing defiantly in front of Yuuri in a protective manner, toe-to-toe with the stranger, shoulders drawn up to make his already muscular build look bigger, fire in his eyes.

"Back off!" Viktor growled, smashing his fist into the alpha's--this man stunk of the pheromones that were distinctly alpha--face, making Yuuri himself gasp at Viktor's boldness and confidence, not to mention bravery. The man stumbled but recovered quick enough to dodge Viktor's other punch, managing to back away.

"What they hell, you little cunt? You're an omega like him?" He seemed bewildered for a moment before smiling devilishly, the mood changing in an instant. " ** _Submit._** " he said, the alpha voice ringing in Yuuri's ears. Instantly all of the control Yuuri had in his body vanished and he collapsed against the cobblestone, limp. Viktor dropped like a stone, but from what Yuuri could see, his entire body was shaking in the effort to disobey the command that the alpha had given them. Yuuri didn't know if he should dub the action brave--for standing up to an alpha--or stupid--for he knew from experience what happened when and omega disobeyed the alpha giving a command.

The alpha nodded, a sick grin on his face, nudging Viktor with a boot before stalking right back to where Yuuri lay prone on the ground. By now, Yuuri's body was stuck trying to decide what to do. His self-preservation was torn in half, part of him wanting to just take what was coming to avoid other escalated conflict, and the rest of him was screaming for him to run, to flee, to escape. However, this stranger had used the alpha voice, and as an omega, there was nothing he could do to override it. Yuuri's lips trembled when the alpha crouched down and grasped Yuuri's chin in between his thumb and forefinger.

"Looks like you are quite the omega. Dainty and weak."

Viktor growled, deep and low in his throat, but the stranger paid him hardly an mind.

"Oi, you better shut up or your friend here is going to get it, ya hear?"

The man kneeling in front of him was blocking his view of Viktor, but Yuuri still heard the sound from the older omega's throat deepen, malice so thick in the air it made every nerve in Yuuri's body scream with anxiety.

"You wouldn't dare. My cousin is the emperor! If you lay a hand on me or my friend than you'll be hanged!"

A sneer twisted the alpha's features and as quick as lightning, he raised a hand and backhanded Yuuri, right across the cheek. Yuuri gasped, his head snapping back from the force of the blow. His cheek stung and he was willing to bet that he had a red handprint on his skin. Viktor--not more than a few feet away but still out of sight--instantly stilled and was dead silent in the wake of the slap of skin against skin. Yuuri tried his best to make himself seem smaller than he already was, hoping that this man would just leave them alone. 

"What do we have here?" He asked, yanking the collar of Yuuri's shirt down roughly to reveal the gift from Yuri that he had gotten earlier today. "The emperor's seal, huh? Guess you weren't lying. The only unfortunate part for you two is that I'm not afraid of a pipsqueak stuck in a man's job." His breathe smelled like alcohol. He still had that wolfish grin on his cruel features as he gripped Yuuri's hair painfully in his fist and jerked to the side, exposing Yuuri's neck. He started to let his hands release the buttons on Yuuri's shirt.

_No no no no-_

Yuuri was by now hyperventilating, his body and mind panicking as the world around him spun in and out of focus. Yuuri was stuck in between two worlds--one foot in his past and the other in the present, straddling a dangerous line and tumbling down a worse train of thoughts.

_Let it happen--no don't! Fight! No, do what you're told and submit!_

His head was screaming nonsense, almost too loud to hear the world around him, abuse directed both towards himself and his attacker--no,  _rapist--_ indiscriminately.

But like magic the sickening weight leaning on his chest vanished, the fingers violently opening his buttons were gone and Yuuri could  _finally_ breathe. Looking over to the side, Yuuri's mouth dropped open from the sight of Yuri kneeling over top of the man that had started this whole thing, one knee on either side of the stranger's body, one hand gripping tightly onto the front of the man's shirt and his other arm cocked back, coming down multiple times before opening his mouth to speak and explain why he was here.

"Imagine my surprise when I come to pick up two people who are very important to me, only to find that they  _aren't_ there, but dragged into an alley by some second-rate excuse of an alpha who looked about ready to  _fucking rape them._ News flash, fucko, that guy over there is my cousin, whom I am really protective of. And-" Yuuri pulled the man up by his collar, pointing a finger at Yuuri. "he is one of my best friends." Yuri stood, dragging the older alpha up with him, a dark and brutal look in his green eyes.

"Are you scared of me now?" he asked, voice low in barely-restrained anger. The man nodded rapidly, absolute terror in his gaze after realizing just how bad that he did decide to fuck up after not only insulting the emperor, but attempting to rape people he was close to. For the umpteenth time Yuuri tried to scoot towards Viktor for the extreme levels of comfort that he needed right now, but failed after yet again making the conclusion that he couldn't because the alpha still hadn't released him nor Viktor from his influence yet. Luckily, Yuri seemed to catch on very quickly and Yuuri could do nothing but try not to drown in anxiety as Yuri forced the man to relinquish his hold on the two omegas.

"Let them go,  **now.** " Yuri growled, his grip tightening and his arms bringing the man closer, who was paling with every passing second. The older alpha hastily nodded and broke the temporary connection that he had formed. Instantly Viktor was on him, wrapping his large arms around Yuuri's violently shaking body and pull him into a massive bear hug, standing and shifting Yuuri's weight until the young omega was being clutched bridal-style. 

"Yuri." Was all that Viktor said, and Yuri nodded, smashing the man's head into the cobblestone hard enough to force him into unconsciousness but not enough to cause lasting damage before turning on a heel and leading the way, nearly pushing people out of the way once they returned to the heavily populated streets. Yuuri didn't really register much of it, too busy trying to hide his tears in Viktor's shirt. He did however feel it when Viktor and Yuri sat side-by-side once they were in the closed-off carriage and half of his body end up in Yuri's lap, the other half still in Viktor's. A hand wound itself through his hair, but it was done soothingly and not at all like the rough treatment that he was shown a few minutes ago. Instantly he started to sob, craving that safe feeling that Yuri gave him, and the hands around him just wound tighter.

* * *

This time when a hand clasped itself over his mouth in his sleep, he did not react so sharply, but Yuri still made a move to barrel straight up and into a fighting position. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that the second his eyes opened he could see Otabek standing there, his face grimmer than normal.

"Otabek?" He asked sleepily, rubbing an eye and swinging his feet out of bed. Otabek handed Yuri a bundle of clothing.

"We're needed on the battlefield immediately. Things have taken a turn for the worst, and they need the both of us to help guide them. I have our things packed already, so just get dressed. We leave in a half an hour. I'd advise for you to wake up Yuuri in order to tell him before you go, just make sure that you're at the south gate in time, alright?" He said. Otabek seemed even quieter than normal, which was weird.

"How bad is it?"

"Enough that you're going to have to nurse that stab wound while we fight. The army is breaking apart at the seams and men are threatening to desert on us. They don't believe that if you hadn't been stabbed and almost killed we would have had the barbarians on the run by now."

Yuri nodded in acknowledgement, still hanging onto sleep a little. Otabek closed the door behind him and Yuri changed out of his nightshirt and pants in the dark and into simple clothing that would be comfortable for the journey that he was apparently going to be taking. Afterwards, he sat on his bed, thinking. He didn't want to wake Yuuri because it had already taken them so long to get the young omega to a somewhat peaceful sleep after the latter events of today (which the thought of still set Yuri's blood to a boil) and Yuri feared that if he woke Yuuri now and told him that he would be going off to war again before he was properly healed and might not even survive, Yuuri would never sleep again. But then again, Yuri couldn't just leave without a trace--that would probably equally distress gentle Yuuri.

Eventually, Yuri came to a decision, and while he rush his penmanship so it was not anywhere near its usual luster, the words on the paper in front of him were carefully thought out and planned. It wasn't too long and didn't take forever to write, but after the task was done Yuri wasted no time jumping up from his seat and practically running to Yuuri's room, silently swinging the door open wide and slipping through before closing it with a heel. 

Yuuri was sleeping in his normal adorable fashion, all cuddled up with the sheets and pillows piled around him in a little cocoon of fluff and cuteness. Yuri smirked at his internal comparisons of Yuuri, striding forward on the balls of his feet in order to make the least amount of noise. Yuri left his letter to his friend on the nightstand to the left of the bed, under the glass of water, making a motion to turn around and walk out of the room, but his eye traveled to Yuuri's face, and his heart melted.

While writing his letter to Yuuri, he had done some soul-searching and took most of the ten minutes to sort through his feelings and motives, because Yuuri had had enough lies and suffering in his life, and Yuri was hell-bent on not making Yuuri suffer on his account. So he had figured some stuff out. Admitted things to himself that he never thought he would.

He had a crush on the adorable, Katsuki Yuuri. 

_You're lying to yourself again._

Yuri sighed inwardly. He remembered the white-hot rage that he had felt inside of his body when he found out what had happened to Yuuri while he was with the barbarians. He remembered how Yuuri would lay still on his bed and listen, Yuri next to him, one of his hands combing through his hair as Yuri recounted his woes from the day. He remembered how stunning Yuuri looked in the garden that night; he was so relaxed, so carefree, and Yuri wanted to protect that expression and his happiness. And gods, did Yuri remember how he had seen red when he had turned that corner to find Viktor and Yuuri on the ground, motionless, another fucking alpha on top of Yuuri and working the buttons of his shirt open. No, his feelings were too deep to be categorized as a crush, his reactions to the omega too strong.

He was  _in love_ with Katsuki Yuuri.

There. He admitted it. 

As Yuri looked on at the sleeping figure, a longing stirred in his chest, a tug from his gut telling him to just  _go and fucking do it you're already thinking about it._ But Yuri still stood there, unsure, but not for long because he had already taken a third of his time in his room, writing the letter which was now out of his grasp and probably wasted just as much time running to Yuuri's room and standing there. But should he do it?

His feet made up his mind and with his long stride, Yuri reached the side of the bed with a few steps, pushing back the hair that had dangled in front of Yuuri's forehead. Yuri leaned down and closed his eyes. He kissed Yuuri's forehead and whispered, lips still close enough that Yuri could feel the body heat coming from the omega.

"I'll be back for you, Yuuri. I promise."

With one last kiss to the forehead and a gentle caress of the soft hair, Yuri leaned back, stumbling away from the bed, legs wobbly. He turned, setting his eyes on the door only taking one step before a sleepy voice called out, followed by a yawn. 

"Yuri?"

Yuri wasn't sure if he wanted to curse himself out for not leaving faster or rejoice over the fact that he could say goodbye to Yuuri in person without purposefully waking him up. He turned to find Yuuri rubbing one of his eyes like a little kid, still buried under the blankets, a little bit of a pout on his face.  _Gods, Yuuri, you're gonna fucking kill me._

"Yeah?"

"What're you doing?"

He wasn't going to lie; the thought of fleeing to avoid explaining himself flashed through his head, but he dismissed it. This was going to be the last time he saw Yuuri for a while, but then again he was off to war so it may be  _the_ last time. Ever. He couldn't end their quite possibly last encounter like that. So Instead Yuri found himself back where he was before, standing next to the bed.

"The war took a turn for the worse. I'm not going to lie to you, but it turned into straight up hell. I know I'm not healed completely, but I can still raise a sword and my people need me, so I have to leave." Yuuri started to look distressed, all signs of the sleep that he had been experiencing gone from his face. It caused Yuri an almost physical pain to see the devastation. Maybe that was also one of his reasons for not wanting to wake up Yuuri in the first place, even if it was a subconscious one at that; he was a coward. Using a letter would ensure that he didn't have to see the pain it caused Yuuri, nor deal with the consequences of it. Yuri swallowed but continued on. "I wasn't going to wake you because you need rest and...." he trailed off, but Yuuri didn't seem to realize the shame Yuri felt because he was too busy throwing his arms around Yuri's neck.

"You can't! Y-you're injured still and you can't g-go back! Are you crazy?"

"Yuuri, it's my duty as a citizen and the emperor. I have to do this." 

"Can't you say no? Yuri it's war; you could  _die!_ " 

Yuri hadn't really seen such a response from the male omega, no matter what had been involved. And he had to admit that the fact that Yuuri was so worried about him spread warmth through his heart as he put his arms around the smaller figure trembling in his grasp. Yuri made sure to put something soft and soothing into his scent to try and comfort the omega.

"I know, Yuuri, believe me I know."

"Don't leave, please."

"I'm sorry, Yuuri but I have to. I know the risks of war, and they are risks I have to take."

Yuuri pulled back, and Yuri was shocked to find that there were tears swimming in those expressive brown eyes, threatening to spill. Yuuri tugged something off of his finger and pressed it into Yuri's palm roughly.

"Then here. An o-old man made it for me today w-when Viktor and I were in the market. Please j-just don't f-forget me." Yuuri barely was able to finish talking before crystal tears streamed down his cheeks in small rivers. Yuri was horrified to say the least, slipping the ring on without looking at it too much so he could wipe the water from Yuuri's face and envelope him in a hug once more, thinking about how perfectly Yuuri fit against him.

"I won't." His throat felt like cotton. He couldn't breathe. "Nothing could. You're my....f-friend and...." Yuri swallowed, or at least tried to in order to attempt to ease the pain in his chest. Gods it felt like he was being stabbed again. "I'm not going to die," Yuri whispered. "I swear to you I'm not. I'll be back for you."

"Y-you can't promise t-that and expect t-to keep it." Yuuri mumbled brokenly against his shirt. 

Yuri's mind was once again racing. He didn't know that Yuuri was so attached to him; that Yuri leaving would raise such a reaction from the younger, but he tried to find a way to fix it. But how? Once again he recalled how Yuuri struggled to keep going, and fight for his life, especially when he had first met the omega, and it occurred to Yuri that if he didn't fix this there was a very realistic chance that Yuuri would sink farther down than he was before, most likely thinking that Yuri left because he didn't like him. 

_Not an option._

Yuri cupped Yuuri's face in his hands, thinking about how fucking cruel the world was to put Yuuri through shit that would permanently turn his own mind against him. He thought back, shifted through his memories.  _You sir, are in love, and I suspect that Yuuri also feels the same_ was what Viktor had said.  _You two hanging in this imbalance you are forcing your bodies to do the talking._ Okay, fine, he'll let his body to the talking because his mouth apparently didn't know shit.

Yuri leaned forward, thumbs ghosting over Yuuri's cheekbones. Yuri closed his eyes and softly, ever so softly, connected their lips. 

It was like fireworks going off in his brain, the rush of kissing Yuuri was was like a drug, the softness of his lips indescribable and the tiny gasp of surprise at the action nearly driving Yuri insane. It didn't last very long, but it left his body eager to repeat the process as often as possible. Yuuri looked at him with wide eyes.

"W-what-"

"Yuuri, I like you, a lot. In fact," Yuri nearly laughed. "I think I love you. Yes, I Yuri Plisetsky have fallen in love with you.  _That's_ why you don't have to worry about me not coming back." 

Yuuri was still looking at him in that unbelieving way of his, but there was a spark of hope that was quickly turning into a fire and how could Yuri have missed it before?

"Really?" He asked suspiciously, like Yuri was lying to him.

Instead of words, Yuri leaned forward and claimed the omega's lips, this time the kiss much hotter, their breaths hot against each other's faces. Yuri drank in the whole surreal experience, right from the gentleness of his skin to the delicious scent of  _Yuuri_ just everywhere. When they broke, they were nearly panting, their foreheads touched together. 

"Really."

"I don't know if I-"

Yuri knew that it would have been to much to ask for Yuuri to love him too after everything that he had been through, but it still hurt. Yuri tried to ignore the lance of pain through his heart.

"It's okay, just know that I do."

* * *

Yuri looked back over his shoulder, the faint outline of the castle visible against the black nighttime sky. Somewhere, there was an omega nestled in the massive amounts of blankets and pillows, his lips a tiny bit more red than normal from the kisses, carrying Yuri's seal on his throat and love in his heart. Yuri touched the ring on his finger, letting himself think about the boy that had stolen his heart for another moment before turning back around in his saddle and following Otabek on his horse. Now, on the road, was not the time to be lost in thought. For now, he had to win the war.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I just separated them, sent Yuri back to war, and like killed them both a little bit inside in the process.
> 
> but, good news (okay not really, just some stuff) I have some links for you guys to look at. Below is the link of how I imagine the chain part of Yuuri's necklace/choker/thingy, but please note that the thickness, material, size, and color are not relevant (only the chain shape is)
> 
> curb chain link: https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwiB5YHRp7HTAhXBYyYKHX4KBhIQjRwIBw&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.a1jewellers.com%2Fgold-jewellery%2FIndian%2520Jewellery%2FChains%2F9ct-gold-curb-chain-17260-A16742%2F&psig=AFQjCNGsEuh8Xw6JDvnGzbeZ_dltsgiw3g&ust=1492718416271205
> 
> How I got the ideas for the Russian food link: http://rbth.com/russian_kitchen/2016/08/26/the-eight-most-popular-russian-street-foods_624239
> 
> And last but not least the picture for one of the symbols on Yuuri's ring. The other one you can easily look up if you don't already know what it is: http://www.thehopetree.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/perseverance-african.png
> 
> Thank you guys for everything! All of the comments and kudos and love :D see you next time!


	12. War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> ahhh I'm so sorry that this is later than I planned! I've just been like so sick recently like excuse you mother nature??? who said I could get sick???
> 
> so. this chapter is going to be something of a filler, b/c while I want to move on from the war and Yuri's experiences of it wouldn't make for a very good/long chapter, I do want to touch on it. Also, I have a large amount of scenarios that would be in the timeline between Yuri departing and returning. So the events of this chapter will take place over the span of just under a year (like 10-11 months) and I am going to be skipping around, but things should stay in chronological order. If you have any issues with the timeline, shoot me a comment and I'll clear things up :)
> 
> featuring, more Phichit feels, because it's his birthday and I'm still kinda emotional over the fact that I killed him. (I'm not going to lie, I got so emotional over him while writing this, like I almost had to stop because my heart was hurting a little. I'm sorry Phichit :'( )
> 
> ***AD REFERS TO AFTER DEPARTMENT, MEANING AFTER YURI LEFT THE CASTLE (figured it might make the timeline easier to follow)

 

**Five weeks a.d.**

  

In the beginning, Yuri didn't think about Yuuri once. Not out of spite for the unrequited love Yuri harbored, but for the fact that Yuri was unprepared for the sheer amount of work that needed to be done upon his return to war. Immediately once he was seen with Otabek and their small party by the army sentries, there was a host of tasks that he personally needed to see to. 

The morale of the men was one of the easiest things to fix. They had adopted him in a light of extreme respect after his parents--the former emperor and empress--were murdered and Yuri jumped straight into the war regardless of his age and state of grievance almost immediately. The bond that Yuri shared with these men had only strengthened in the year that Yuri spent on the battlefield and while Yuri's near death had greatly wounded their hope, one could see the return of it as the soldiers saw his blond head of hair. 

 _I guess there are benefits of not allowing yourself to grieve: people respect you,_ Yuri mused.

After that Yuri had taken a large amount of time reinstalling the former discipline of his army and refining the battle formations that had somehow grown dull in his absence. The general that Otabek had blindly dubbed temporary commander-in-chief in the rush to save Yuri's life was more than relieved to see Yuri's return, and the young emperor could easily see how the beta man had let the state of the army slowly deteriorate, albeit unintentionally.

Unfortunately, with his return, the barbarians seemed even more eager to slaughter them, and the attacks tripled, causing Yuri to pull his men from the front lines and up north a few kilometers, the enemy attacking the whole while. The onslaught continued throughout the migration, but after the initial desperation from the restoration of Yuri's prominent ruling figure wore off, a cruel normalcy of multiple skirmishes a week returned.

Additionally, the almost-healed wound that Yuri possessed didn't do much healing in the the following weeks, more times than not the scabs splitting after a particularly aggressive battle, the scar now the same angry red of all new skin. It hurt like hell, certainly. His whole gut flared with pain more times in a day than not, Yuri finding himself holding a heated cloth to his abdomen with a grimace while leaning against one of the tents on his off hours, sometimes in the relative privacy of his sleeping quarters, sometimes not.

Between it all, Yuri had barely enough time to sleep and eat, fitting in short, hour-long naps throughout the day when he could, stealing a bite of food here or there, just enough to keep his stomach from grumbling. Mila, Sara, and Otabek were all positively livid with how Yuri was treating himself, but they didn't have much of a leg to stand on over the fact that everyone was running themselves ragged.

It was a double edged sword, to say the least. Do well fending of the barbarians only to fail in their health, or succeed in self-care and lose the war.

Alas, the wonder that was Katsuki Yuuri did escape from Yuri's mind for a while, but it came back full force, as sudden and unexpected as most things in Yuri's life. It happened when Yuri was in his tent by himself for once, laying on his cot and nursing a cut on his arm while he had the chance. Yuri was musing about nothing in particular when his thoughts turned to a few weeks ago and how Yuri could almost forget about the war within the walls of the castle. But with that thought Yuri was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that he had completely disregarded the memories that he had with the most beautiful omega he had ever seen. 

That night Yuri remembered everything he could about Yuuri, from how shaky their relationship started to his rare and pure smile lighting up the room. Yuri thought about all of the times they laid next to each other, Yuri talking and Yuuri listening. The sunset and the rose, the  _for good luck,_ and finally, their parting words. Sure, Yuri remembered how fucking perfect Yuuri felt in his arms, how warm and soft and precious, but he couldn't help but remember how Yuuri cried upon the realization that Yuri was going to be gone for a while, if not permanently. 

_"Can't you say no? Yuri it's war; you could die!"_

_"I know, Yuuri, believe me I know."_

_"Don't leave, please."_

_"I'm sorry, Yuuri but I have to. I know the risks of war, and they are risks I have to take."_

_"Then here. An o-old man made it for me today w-when Viktor and I were in the market. Please j-just don't f-forget me."_

Yuri twisted the pewter ring on his finger. Yuri had examined it on their way to the army camp when he had much more free-time, and Yuri had recognized the brilliant marksmanship belonging to one of the most skilled metal workers that Yuri had ever come across.  _Oh Yuuri,_ the blond mused, drifting off to sleep,  _how I wish I could see you again. Are you alright? Still healthy? You don't know what I wouldn't do to make sure._

Yuri fell asleep to the thoughts of Yuuri and how he could be at the moment; was he safe? Cared for?

Unfortunately because of Yuri's worrying over the omega that had stolen his heart, in sleep his mind ruled that it was due time that Yuri experienced some high levels of anguish. He experienced a terrible nightmare that night. It started out happy enough. Yuri had returned to the castle a hero, the war over. Yuuri had greeted him with a kiss and his proclamation of love, nuzzling up to Yuri, purring. They had had a feast that night, and it was the happiest Yuri had ever been, swirling Yuuri around on the dance floor, laughing and smiling.

The terror, however, had come that night when they were sleeping. The barbarians that they had rescued Yuuri from had resurrected, dragging Yuuri out from Yuri's protective grasp and away, kicking and screaming, out of Yuri's sight and far away. The whole time Yuri was paralyzed on the bed, not moving besides screaming for the guards that never came, for Yuuri to hold on  _he'll be right there,_ that Yuri wouldn't let it happen again, but he did. He didn't move off the bed to stop them. 

The whole time, Yuri could hear the General laughing loudly in his head.

Yuri had woken up in a cold sweat, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, fear still gripping him tightly, hard enough to cause a pain in his chest to blossom. Regardless, knowing if his precious Yuuri was okay seemed more important that anything, and it took over every thought he had. His alpha within wailed, crying out to see and touch his chosen mate, to tuck him away and  _protect._

Yuri didn't sleep the rest of the night, and for over a week, he revisited that dream over and over again.

* * *

  

**Twelve weeks a.d.**

 

Yuuri picked at his breakfast, uninterested. These past three months had been horrible with Yuri gone. The young omega hadn't even realized how much he took the blond's company for granted until he was left without it. All of those moments during the day that they normally without fail would find each other and have their time as friends was suddenly empty. Yuuri found himself more and more wandering into the blond's chambers to tell the young emperor something, only to remember that Yuri was on the battlefield, fighting for his life at war.

He wanted his Yuri back.

"Yuuri, don't look so down!" Viktor said, nudging the younger with his shoulder, looking sad. "Come on and cheer up, we can do something fun today!" 

Yuuri gave Viktor a small smile in his efforts, but his thoughts were elsewhere. They were on the blond who had been such a patient friend, taking care of Yuuri when he was recovering, not leaving even though Yuuri rarely spoke, not caring that something in Yuuri was broken. His heart longed for the warm embrace of Yuri's arms, the feeling of safety that Yuuri had just gotten around to accepting. He wanted to hear his laugh, his voice, his whine when he had a long day. Not only that, but his smoldering green eyes and lean body would haunt Yuuri at night occasionally, especially during his heat a month ago. But alas, Yuuri found himself falling asleep most nights along and without the feeling of Yuri next to him. 

It killed him.

Yuuri remembered how they had left things, how vulnerable the emperor looked when he had confessed his love. Yuuri was too overcome with excess emotion to properly register it, but he had certainly felt the desperation of if he loved Yuri romantically back. Platonically was not the issue because Yuuri loved each and every one of his new friends, Yuri included, but he hadn't thought too deeply on the issue of them being an item. Sure, the thought had crossed his mind on occasion back when Yuri was still around, but it was never in depth and Yuuri always shook it off, thinking about how he was certain that Yuri would never see him worthy of his love. 

But then that night fed Yuuri's thoughts, the kiss burnt into Yuuri's lips so he could still feel the way they moved against each other, the weight of Yuri's hands on his face, the pleasantness of the alpha's musky scent surrounding Yuuri completely. It had been on Yuuri's mind, but it all changed once Yuuri had had his heat. The entire time Yuuri thought about the young emperor, and the novel experience was that he had never had a heat that he legitimately enjoyed. Before it was always five or so days of the barbarians forcing themselves upon him non-stop, not giving Yuuri a break for a moment. But this one was dotted with fantasies of Yuri, tall and strong Yuri loving him, marking him. 

It was quite the feat for Yuuri to process the thoughts that his heat-induced mind had come up with, and the only solution that fit was that Yuuri had feelings for the blond. Were they love though? Merely attraction? Yuuri wasn't sure.

The rest of the day Yuuri let Viktor entertain him, and even spent some time with Chris, the alpha gripping about how they rarely got to see each other anymore, even though that wasn't true. If anything, they spend even more time than ever before together. 

Although, Yuuri found himself alone in the garden, back with the roses, the sun setting. He sighed. For not the first time Yuuri wished that Phichit was still here. Yuuri would gladly give up his life if it meant that Phichit had survived the rescuing, but life didn't care what Yuuri wanted, so he was left alone, trying to figure out what Phichit would do. It was no use.

"Oh, Phichit, what am I going to do? I don't even know if I love him but I still fantasized about him in my heat." Yuuri said softly, looking up at the sky. A thought occurred to him, and Yuuri had to laugh. "You probably don't know who I'm talking about, do you? Well, I don't even know if you can hear me, but....his name is Yuri Plisetsky. He's an alpha, and get this, he's also the emperor! Can you believe it, Phichit?"

The wind was warm against Yuuri's skin.

"He's tall, much taller than I am, and he's blond." A fond note entered Yuuri's voice without him noticing. "His eyes are so green. Like....jade. They're expressive and show what he's thinking, and they sparkle in the light. He's strong, but not too muscular, more lithe than anything, yet he can lift me perfectly as if I'm air. He's a gentleman, and is really protective of me. You wouldn't believe it how we first met...."

Yuuri talked longer than he knew, a smile on his face as he remembered his not-so-distant past with a certain blond. 

"I think you'd like him, really. Although," Yuuri laughed. "you probably would have threatened him for coming anywhere near me." The whole time that Yuuri had been talking aimlessly to the wind he had been teetering on an edge, but that thought finally pushed him over. Bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, Yuuri left tears threaten.

"Why did you have to die, Phichit? You know I can't....." Yuuri sniffed, tears streaming down his cheeks. Yuuri buried his head in his drawn-up knees. "Gods, I miss you so much, Phichit." Yuuri hiccupped, a sob escaping as he thought about his best friend, how he laughed, how he smiled, how he was so much more than family. His chest hurt and his body shook like a leaf in a storm, looking up at the sky with rivers down his cheeks.

The wind was blowing from behind Yuuri, and it was warmer than it should have been for the last day of April. The cherry blossom trees that were planted in the garden were in full bloom, and the wind picked them off of their branches, landing around Yuuri, who gave a watery smile at the sight of the flowers in the wind. They were all around him, soft to the touch, caressing his skin in their fleeting touch as they passed by. A few stayed on his clothing and hair, the white-pink standing out against the material. 

Yuuri put a hand out, waiting, and sure enough, one of those delicate little blossoms landed straight into his palm, the petals rustling in the mild wind but not leaving his outstretched hand no matter what. 

And he smiled.

* * *

 

**Seventeen weeks a.d.**

 

Artyom Takashi, the general of the barbarian army, sat in his tent, musing over a map for a battle strategy. There supplies were starting to run low and they would definitely need to find a way to restock. More importantly, the men were growing impatient for the reinforcements that never seemed to arrive. They were restless and wanted to return to their country, but yet they refused to bend to the will of defeat.

"Herr, jemand hier, um dich zu sehen. Sein Name ist der General." [ _Trans: Sir, there is someone here to see you. His name is the General._ ]

At that Artyom's head snapped up and he forgot what he was writing entirely. He hadn't heard of the name the General in a long time, hadn't seen the man even longer. If his memory served him correctly, then it had been over a decade since their last meeting. The General was already lumbering through the flaps with an air of cruelty and vain anger, causing the assistant that Artyom used to bolt. Artyom stood.

The man before him was immensely tall and had the figure of a hulking grizzly bear and the demeanor of a devil. He had a sharpness in his eyes that made the toughest man cringe away and his alpha air of authority crushed any others, his scent so overpowering it was said that he could make even another alpha submit with his alpha voice if he felt so inclined. Artyom gulped as stubbly as he could. He could hardly remember a time when he was not afraid of this man.

"Hallo, Bruder. Wie ist dein Befinden?" Artyom said as civilly as possible, not wanting to provoke the General. [ _Trans: Hello, brother. How is your health?_ ]

"Versuche nicht, mich mit süßen Worten zu gewinnen, Bruder. Unsere Zeit auseinander hat mich gut gemacht und schien dich schwach zu machen. Stelle sicher, dass diese Schwäche nicht zu dir wird." General Takashi barked, his face in a scowl. [ _Trans: Don't try to win me over with sweet words, brother. Our time apart has done me well and seemed to make you weak. Make sure that weakness does not become you._ ]

"Verzeihen Sie mir, aber es ist Jahre her, seit Sie mich zuletzt." [ _Trans: Forgive me, but it has been years since you last visited me._ ]

"Es spielt keine Rolle. Ich benötige Informationen. Was weißt du von dem jungen Kaiser?" [ _Trans: It doesn't matter. I need information. What do you know of the young emperor?_ ]

"Nicht viel. Er hat keinen Erben und seine engste Familie ist ein Cousin väterlicherseits. Ich höre, dass er sei ein ausgezeichneter Schütze und Krieger ist, der zu fürchten ist."Artyom said, rubbing his head. [ _Trans: Not much. He doesn't have a heir and his closest family is a cousin on his father's side. I hear that he is an excellent marksman and warrior to be feared._ ]

"Ich bin herumgereist, auf der Suche nach Möglichkeiten, seine Schwächen auszunutzen. Ich habe vor ein paar Wochen in einem Dorf etwas Interessantes von einem Milchmädchen gehört. Es stellt sich heraus, dass der Kaiser einen Geliebten hat." [ _Trans: I've been traveling, looking for a way to exploit his weaknesses. I heard something very interesting from a milkmaid a few weeks ago in a village. It turns out the emperor has a lover._ ]

Artyom nearly shivered at the twisted grin on his brother's face, remembering a time when he was not this monster. Over two decades ago, he had a mate, a lovely petite beta woman. She was pregnant with their first child when the accident happened. There was a fire in their home, late at night. Artyom's brother was the only one to survive. That was when something inside of him broke, and he transformed into a monster that killed savagely and without remorse. 

But then again, evil men aren't born; they are made.

"Warum ist das relevant? Der Junge hat also einen Liebhaber; Gut für Ihn." Artyom said as carefully as possible. [ _Trans: Why is this relevant? So the boy has a lover; good for him._ ]

"Er ist mein Feind, und es gibt niemanden mehr als ihn, den ich lieber in Schmerzen und Trauer schwimmen sehen möchte." [ _Trans: He is my enemy, and there is no one more than he that I would rather watch swim in pain and mourning._ ]

"Du hast schon seine Eltern getötet. Was mehr willst du ihm nehmen?" [ _Trans: You already killed his parents. What more do you want to take from him?_ ]

"Seine Eltern waren ein Zufall und ihr Tod hatte nichts mit ihm zu tun, ich entledigte mich nur meiner Feinde. Er hat aber meinen bedingungslosen Hass verdient. Er und seine Bande Menschen stürzten mein Lager und töteten meine Männer. Ich will Rache." [ _His parents were chance and their deaths weren't about him, but me disposing of another enemy. He however, has earned my unconditional hatred. He and his band of misfits overthrew my camp and killed my men. I want revenge._ ]

Artyom rubbed the side of his head in his usual habit, thinking deeply. When his brother wanted something, he got it, including revenge. 

"Was kann ich dann für dich tun?" [ _Trans: What can I do for you then?_ ]

"Ich brauche ein paar deiner Männer, die nach Informationen über des Kaisers mysteriöse Geliebte graben. Ich will ihn hart treffen, und das er ist sein schwächster Punkt." [ _Trans: I need a few of your men to dig after information pertaining the emperor's mystery lover. I want to hit him hard, and that is his weakest link._ ]

Artyom nodded, thankful that that was all that his brother needed. He could spare a few men if it meant that his brother would leave him. 

"Das kann ich machen." [ _Trans: I can do that._ ]

* * *

 

**Twenty-one weeks a.d.**

 

Yuri rubbed his temple, a headache forming right between the eyes. One of the worst things about his position of commander-in-chief was the fact that he had to deal with the generals. Most of the people that he called on for advice during battle were relatively insightful, and Yuri regularly bounced ideas off of his best friend, Otabek. The downfall was that there were a few of the generals that Yuri practically hated. General Shamhi was one of them. He was a middle-aged alpha who was sure that Yuri was unsuited for the job of emperor at a young age. Regardless if he was, the position was hereditary, and Yuri had done a decent enough job to begin with, or so he was told. General Shamhi had plenty of experience in war and fighting, but from his behavior you would not be able to tell. He was a coward.

"We need to bring our forces up to the mouth of the river and retreat to a more defendable position!" the man cried, waving his arms. They were all crowded around a map, trying to determine their next plan of action.

"The barbarian's are faulting. Their reinforcements haven't arrived and their men are exhausted from their lack of supplies. Retreating would only give them a chance to reaffirm their position and return to full strength. We have to strike now or we will be facing another year of this war!" A different general by the name of Emil Nekola said, glaring at general Shamhi.

"It's a deathtrap to continue this! Suicide!"

"So is retreating!" one of the other generals shouted. Tension started to build in the air.

"We should reinstate diplomacy and try to solve this war without another life lost!"

"ENOUGH!" Yuri roared, slamming his fist on the table. All of the older men around him fell silent immediately at the dominant-alpha feel Yuri was giving off. His eyes were wide with anger. Yuri turned to general Shamhi with a glare. Otabek rested a hand on Yuri's shoulder.

"The last time that diplomatic relations were extended my parents were murdered. I don't think that that is a risk we are willing to take once more. Now," Yuri kept his glowering expression. "Otabek and I came up with a plan and I suggest that you listen to it." Yuri gestured for his fellow alpha to take over and his did with a supportive squeeze to the shoulder.

"Right now the barbarians are cornered, so that makes them dangerous. One kilometer south is a valley," Otabek pointed to the map, tracing his finger over the path they would take. "with only one entrance, which is where we'll steer our army. We'll send a small party to circle back around and ah,  _persuade_ them to follow us instead of waiting for reinforcements. There, we'll lure them into the trap and try to take out as much of them we can, hopefully severely damaging their forces, crippling them for the future. If this works, we might be able to wear them out within the next two months and this war can be over."

There was silence as all of the alpha men mulled over the plan in their heads. Then, one by one, they all nodded, two of them mouth the words and dragging their eyes over the map to solidify it and examine the plan for holes. 

"Then by the gods we'll do it." General Nekola said and a few of the other generals echoed the phrase. Yuri caught Otabek's eye. They both solemnly nodded.

* * *

 

**Thirty-two weeks a.d.**

 

Yuri roared at the top of his lungs, plunging his sword deep into the enemy's chest. The sounds of battle raged around him, sweeping him up in a whirlwind of hatred and agony. Men were screaming in pain and blood lust, the valley echoing it all so the sound merely bounced from the rock walls and back to the battlefield, making it sound as if a hundred times more men were locked in battle. 

The young emperor was on the far right on the valley, stone behind his back and a group of men rallied to his sword, shouting at the barbarians they faced. The August heat affected all of them, and nearly as many men were fainting from heat exhaustion and dehydration as fatal combat wounds. Bodies were everywhere, and no matter how lightly you treaded, there was nearly always one underfoot. It made Yuri's stomach heave, but he had already vomited twice since the beginning of this battle and there was nothing for his stomach to give. 

"Look out!" A voice cried. Two hands slammed into Yuri's side, causing the young emperor to lose his balance and sending him sprawling onto the dusty ground. As fast as he could, Yuri sprang back to his feet, his heart beating faster than it already raced in battle. A small figure was standing before him, back to Yuri, a sword stabbed through their chest. The rest of the squadron that Yuri had been commanding had already surged forward, dispatching the barbarian that had impaled the young soldier. 

A cold hand clutched at Yuri's chest upon the realization that they had saved Yuri's life. If he hadn't been shoved out of the way, that sword would have cut through his chest instead.

The figure collapsed, knees buckling. Yuri thankfully caught his savior and was able to carry them off to the side, trusting his men to keep the barbarians at bay. Throwing the clasp on the soldier's helmet open, Yuri tossed the cumbersome thing off and away. Underneath the metal Yuri came face to face with a man who was probably in his twenties, his features scrunched up in pain, face ashen and a clammy feeling to his dark skin.

"You saved my life and I can't thank you enough." Yuri said, ripping a length of leather from Yuri's own armor and using it to tie off the wound as best as possible before sliding his arms underneath the man's knees and shoulders, lifting him up, grunting under the weight that his arms were lifting. Yuri called to one of his men, shouting orders over the noise of the fray, already sprinting in the direction of the camp his army occupied. Sooner rather than later Yuri's breath was labored and his muscles ached from the strain of carrying the burden of their combined masses and their armor. 

The man in his arms moaned in pain, Yuri's feet drumming on the ground and jostling the both of them around obviously not helping. He tried to level his footing, really he did, but the valley ground was littered with stones of all shapes and sizes, making an unwavering step impossible. The man groaned again, eyes fluttering.

"No! Don't you fucking close your eyes, you hear! That's an order!" Yuri said desperately, nearly tripping because he wasn't watching where he was going. Yuri wanted to scream. There was no way in hell that he was going to let the man that saved his life die.

"Come on, tell about yourself." Yuri gasped, close to his physical limit between their massive combined weight, the sweltering sun, and building exhaustion from the battle. "What's your name, huh? Let's start with that."

"D-Dmitry. Dmitry Ivanov."

"Any family?"

"Yeah. I have m-my mother and f-father-" a violent cough shook Dmitry's body. "-and m-my little s-sister. She would always...." Dmitry continued to talk, but his voice grew quieter and quieter as the words passed his lips, and soon enough, Yuri couldn't hear him at all. Even if it was the case, he wasn't about to ask the injured soldier to speak louder and waste unnecessary energy. For now it was just to keep him awake. 

Yuri looked ahead desperately, silently begging for him to make it to the camp; it was so near, yet so far. Don't _fucking give up!_ Yuri screamed internally, gritting his teeth and surging forward on pure adrenaline. Closer, closer, almost there.  _Fuuuccckkk! I'm not going to make it!_

By pure luck more than anything, he recognized Mila's tent on the edge of the camp and when his eyes locked onto the material his legs stumbled, almost spilling him and his company.  _Come on! You're Yuri Plisetsky! You can fucking run another ten meters!_

"Mila!" Yuri shouted as loud as possible, not even registering how cracked his voice sounded. Five meters, four, three..... A red head poked itself out from the material of the tent, looking around frantically for the source of the shout, her medical instincts kicking in. She locked her eyes on the dusty and beaten down image of Yuri, a impaled stranger in his arms, and they widened, understanding crossing her features. 

"Sara!" She shouted. "Clear the bed and help me!"

Mila dashed from the flaps of the tent and ran to Yuri, taking the now unconscious weight of Dmitry into her arms, staggering at first. Yuri jerked forward to do what he could even if his muscles were heavily protesting, but Mila immediately waved him off, loosely gesturing to Sara sprinting out of the tent and towards the three of them. Sara hooked one of the soldiers arms around her neck and Mila took the other, positioning it the same as her assistant. 

"Go! You have a different battle to fight!" She said, already moving with Sara to the tent. Yuri watched them disappear inside of the small thing and stood there for a few more heartbeats, debating if he should stay or not. Pressing his lips together, Yuri turned and kicked at the gravel underfoot before breaking out into a jog, towards where he had sent his men. His body ached and cried out in agony, but Yuri pressed on with his head held high and a grim look on his features. Mila was right. He had done everything that he could to help Dmitry, and standing around would only cause more of his men to die. 

This time Yuri was able to travel the kilometer-long distance in a much shorter amount of time. When he was meters away from the enemy, he felt a strong tug in his gut and a blinding rage settle over his senses. It was white-hot and burning, Yuri livid over the fact that Dmitry was stabbed. He was fully aware of the fact that his soldiers died in action, but somehow Dmitry being stabbed felt that much worse, and Yuri wasn't remotely sure why. 

Yuri let it take him, use him, break him down and build him higher in fury.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea, but not was not the time for remorse.

With a thunderous war-cry, Yuri sprinted forward and nearly flung his sword from the sheath at his side, jumping into the fray fully and immediately into action. His bodily pain faded away into nothing and there was not a force of Earth that could stop his bloody revenge, Yuri slashing and stabbing at anything that wore the emblem of the barbarians. He toppled enemies like a child would their toys, wadding through the men that faced him in what seemed to effortless. Very quickly, the barbarians learned that Yuri was superior to them and went out of their way to avoid the blond warrior altogether, all but tripping over each other in an attempt to escape certain death. They also learned that their strategy didn't work. 

Yuri virtually made his way across the whole battlefield, taking a heavy portion of fallen barbarians with him. At one point he was fighting back-to-back with Otabek and another he was nearly completely alone. There were a few times that a sword just barely touched his skin, but he didn't feel it because of the massive amounts of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Turns out it's very effective when blocking pain. 

The battle lasted until sundown, which was when the barbarians retreated in full force, practically running for the hills. A scream of success and triumph rose from Yuri's army and the blond leader joined the cry willingly, still riding on the high his emotions supplied him with. He wasn't exactly happy, per se, but the rage had melted into some sort of morbid satisfaction over the events of the day--particularly with the result of the nearly day-long battle. It wasn't until he was just reentering the campsite did the reality of the situation hit him like a sucker punch. Yuri's blood ran cold and he froze on spot, heart stuttering for a few breaths until he snapped back to attention and turned on a heel, sprinting as fast as his long legs could carry him towards the tent that Mila and Sara used as their quarters and medical area. 

_No no no! Fuck, how could he slip my mind? Dmitry you better be fine!_

Yuri nearly slipped and fell onto his butt in his haste, but he recovered only to repeat the experience when he was greeted with the sight of Mila and Sara sitting on the ground outside of their tent, their backs leaning up against the thick cloth. Their eyes had been closed, but they opened when they heard Yuri's approaching footsteps. Mila met his gaze and Yuri fell to his knees, knowing that it was all over. 

Pain coursed through his body, but it was not physical. He leaned over and heaved, just about keeping himself from emptying his stomach for the third time this day due to the horrors of this goddamn war. His head pounded and for a few minutes, his vision blurred with unshed tears over the man that had not only saved his life, but had a life, had a family, his little sister who would be forever waiting for his return. A hand gripped his shoulder, but he didn't think for a moment that it was Mila or Sara. The hand was too large and strong for either of the women, the weight of it too familiar to be anyone else. Otabek. Yuri let his best friend help him up and Otabek let Yuri slump against him in defeat. 

The young emperor let Otabek lead him to the privacy of his own tent. Inside, the older alpha had him sit on the edge of the bed and tilt his head back, pressing a wad of gauze to Yuri's forehead. He was unaware that he had been injured there, but when Otabek moved the cloth a little to the right, Yuri glimpsed a stain the color of fresh blood. Neither of them spoke, but the silence was somewhere stuck between comfortable and not, which was something that had never happened in their relationship before. 

Yuri thought back to how he had slain without mercy back on the battlefield, and suddenly he did feel sick enough to vomit. Yuri jumped up and dashed past Otabek, throwing open the flaps to his tent with a hand over his mouth, staggering as far as a few feet before doubling over and heaving up what little was in his stomach. Yuri gagged and his stomach cramped from the strain. He stayed like that for a minute or so, just breathing heavy and staring at the dirt like it held all of the answers that he needed. Yuri managed to find his way back to the tent, legs like jelly and just barely holding him up. He fumbled with the heavy fabric the tent was sewn from and almost couldn't get the flaps open. When he did, Yuri's knees buckled. He would have fallen onto his face if it wasn't for Otabek catching him.

"I....Otabek I-I killed s-so many....I-I didn't-"

"I know." Otabek whispered softly, emotion dripping from his voice. "Gods, Yuri, I know."

Yuri's vision swam as he thought about how  _ruthlessly_ he killed. It took him a moment to find that they were tears, but once again, he didn't cry for his parents deaths, and he would not cry now. If he cried, Yuri feared that every instance that he had found himself overcome with emotion would come spilling out in a rush and he would not be able to stop.

"You shouldn't have to experience this. No one should." 

Otabek wrapped Yuri up in a full-body hug and uncharacteristically, Yuri let his best friend just hold him as he fought off the thoughts.

It was then that Yuri actually felt his age.

* * *

 

**Thirty-nine weeks a.d.**

 

The General was sleeping when the soldiers from his brother's army returned to camp. They had left the barbarian camp not too long after the General had arrived himself, and now, weeks later, they were holed up in one of the cities and without one lead. It made the General furious.

"Sie haben besser eine Führung." The General growled at the three soldiers before him. [ _Trans: You better have a lead._ ]

"Jawohl. Wir haben einen Namen und einen Ort." The soldier on the far right stuttered. [ _Trans: Yes, sir. We have a name and a location._ ]

"Wie heißt sie?" [ _Trans: What is their name?_ ]

"Katsuki Yuuri. Ihm wird in der Hauptstadt gehalten." [ _Trans: Katsuki Yuuri. He is being held in the capital.]_

The General smiled a wolfish grin and the soldiers before trembled at the sight.

"Lass die Rache anfangen." The General chuckled. [ _Trans: Let the revenge begin._

* * *

 

**Forty-five weeks a.d.**

 

Yuri gripped the quill in his hand tight enough to cause his knuckles to bleed white instead of their normal color. Tension was thick enough in the air to cut with a knife and Yuri felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck.

_Will this be where I die?_

He swirled his signature onto the paper and set the quill down before standing. Otabek took the signal and saluted both Yuri and then the barbarian leader across from them. Yuri nodded at his friend before turning back to the barbarian before him.

"Ich bin froh, dass wir erreichen und uns zustimmen können. Ich wünsche Ihnen, Ihren Bürgern und Ihrem Land Frieden und Wohlstand." Yuri said as calmly as possible, hoping to every god that he knew that his basic knowledge of German wouldn't fail him now. [ _Trans: I'm glad that we could reach and agreement. I wish you, your citizens, and your country peace and prosperity._ ]

"Vielen Dank, Kaiser Plisetsky. Ich wünsche dir das Gleiche. Hoffentlich können wir in der Zukunft zusammenarbeiten und uns weiter blutvergießen." The barbarian replied curtly. Yuri allowed himself as smile before turning around and climbing his horse. Together, he and Otabek rode back to the camp waiting for them, wide smiles on their faces. [ _Trans: Thank you very much, emperor Plisetsky. I wish you the same. Hopefully we can work together in the future and abstain for further bloodshed._ ]

When they made it back to the camp, thousands of hopeful faces of Yuri's men looked at them in eager silence, waiting for the verdict. Yuri smiled and he realized that it was the first real smile to grace his face since he had last seen Yuuri.

"General Master of the Post," Yuri called. If it was possible, the crowd in front of him grew even more silent, hundreds of thousands of solders holding their breath. "I would like you to please inform the officials in the capital, the citizens of our great empire, and everyone in between, we are coming home!"

A thunderous uproar was heard from the men and women before him. Yuri leaned over and brought Otabek into a hug, the both of them laughing in relief. Once again, Yuri left like he was about to cry, and he nearly did, if only just stopping the tears from their journey.

The rest of the night was filled with celebrations. Soldiers cried out of happiness, hugging each other tightly. Beer was drank, songs sung, tales told, and letters written. Yuri had even caught Otabek and Mila sharing a kiss behind one of their tents, tears streaming down their faces and the both of them wiping the liquid from their cheeks. After dinner though, Yuri abstained from the partying of his men for a moment, trying to track down a specific man he needed a word with.

"Master of the Post, a word?" Yuri said after finally finding the beta man hunched over his desk. He looked up and greeted Yuri with a wide smile.

"What can I do for you, emperor?"

"Have you sent the word of the war's death yet?"

"No, sir."

"Good. In the letter the messenger will carry to my castle, make sure that they do not tell the omega taking refuge n my castle."

"Pardon me, your majesty?"

"Makes sure that they do not tell Katsuki Yuuri. I want to surprise him." Yuri explained with a fond smile on his face. The Master of the Post smiled in understanding before scribbling down a note off to the side.

"Consider it done, emperor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off, I have to thank JukeSkylar for bearing with me and taking the time to correct my horrible German. Thank you so much <3
> 
> happy birthday Phichit! (even tho I'm a day or two late) I'm sorry for killing you! (those feels man....)
> 
> okay, so, the General. He's back to fuck shit up, but before he does, I want to know how much emotional angst ya'll want? Like there could basically be two scenarios that come out of this, one would definitely be more painful for all of us. Do you guys want me to kill you all peacefully, or make it look like a murder scene? PLUS, if you guys pick the more emotional angst, then it will be about two chapters away, the chapter in between this one and the angsty one just. Yuriyuu. fluff. I'm not joking. If you pick the less angsty one, then there will be no Yuriyuu fluff chapter, but there will be a shit ton of less emotional heartbreak.
> 
> so, voting time! shoot me a comment on how much angst you want, and if little angst gets more votes then so be it, if more angst wins, I'll make sure to make it heart-wrenching. 
> 
> also, I know that I use the metric system for this fic, but I have a /very/ vague idea on how it works. I'm only using it because I feel like there is more people that are reading this that use that system than the one that we use in America, but if I get something wrong, /please/ correct me. For my non-metric friends, I mention a kilometer, and it is not as large as you think: 1 kilometer=1000 meters=3280.84 feet (less than a mile) and: 1 meter= about 3 feet
> 
> anyways, I'm not feeling too good about this chapter, but then again, every time I feel like that you guys tell me that I'm wrong, so hopefully it's just me again. *fingers crossed* Hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget to tell me what you guys want! I love you all (/~_~)/


	13. Of Reunions And Champagne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slowly enters* *slides this across the table* *runs* *collapses*
> 
> sorry, peeps, but I had a bit of a car accident, and totally got side-tracked. 
> 
> so yeah, I've had a joyous (just imagine the sarcasm) week and a half, but that's okay, this story has really gotten me to actually do shit and use my head, not just lay in my bed all day
> 
> anyways, you guys don't want to hear this, so sorry for my rambling and not updating, I know that you guys want to get to the story, so here you go. The largest majority of ya'll voted for the shit ton of angst, so here is the fluffy appetizer that you all ordered before I--ahem--crush your hearts (and mine, tbh) ((oh wait I almost did that anyways))

Yuuri couldn't help the whine that escaped from between his lips when Viktor eventually shook him awake. 

"Yuuri! Come on, time to get up!" 

"Viktor~"

"No, no don't 'Viktor' me. It's time to wake up, sunshine."

Out of stubbornness Yuuri rolled over to the other side of the bed and hiked the sheets up and over his head, retreating into the warm confines of the ridiculously soft mattress. Unfortunately, Viktor knew all of his tricks and was able to get a decent enough grip on the blanket, yanking it down and making Yuuri gasp at the sudden rush of colder air against his body, instantly making a break for Viktor, who had the sheet in his hands and a large, heart-shaped smile on his face.

"That's much better! Now, why don't we go and get something to eat before we miss breakfast, da?"

Yuuri pouted and crossed his arms over his midsection, trying to ignore the sound of his traitorous stomach growling for the whole world to hear in the silence that stretched between them. Viktor laughed at his antics.

"Very funny, Yuuri, but today we have things to do, so up and adam!"

"Viktor, you always say that we have plans but we  _never do anything._ "

Viktor rolled his eyes and scooped up the younger omega, flinging him over a shoulder and giggling at the startled yelp that Yuuri let out.  _Adorable._

"I know I say that often-" Viktor kicked open the door that separated Yuuri's room to the hallway and started down the corridor, a spring in his step and a unwavering smile on his face. "-but today I really mean it. We need to get you ready for later and it starts with breakfast at a  _reasonable_ time."

Yuuri huffed and tried to wiggle, but the older omega's iron grip was too strong for Yuuri to break.

"What sort of things?"

"Well, there is going to be a party later tonight, and the whole city will be rejoicing-"

"Why?" Yuuri asked, the picture of innocence. 

Viktor stuttered and nearly tripped down the stairs. The castle had received word two weeks ago that the war had finally ended with a treaty, signed by Yuri and the General of the barbarian army himself. Of course they were not able to celebrate how most of them would have liked, but Yuri had given explicit and very personal instructions for dear Yuuri to be completely unaware of his return home, which certainly complicated things. 

Things such as the staff would never stop whispering about it, seemingly always just out of Yuuri's earshot. Things such as whenever Yuuri and Viktor (with the escort of Chris too, of course) traveled into the city markets Viktor had to steer Yuuri away from nearly everyone and do everything in his power to stop the omega from overhearing a part of a stray conversation. Yes, Viktor thought that the idea was cute and just so  _Yuri_ when you boiled away his rougher outer-shell, but the task was exhausting, plus it required for Viktor to lie to his best friend daily. 

"T-there's a holiday that we c-celebrate around here." Viktor managed to squeak out.

"Really? What holiday? I know that my memory from my childhood is a little fuzzy, but I don't remember today being special."

_Yuuri, stop with the questions!_

"Uh....it's the anniversary of a w-war.....that lasted many years and...."

A small and content "oh" was all that Yuuri said, believing Viktor almost as quickly as he uttered the words. It made a lance tear through his heart. It had taken the younger omega  _so long_ to place his trust in people like Chris, Yuri, and himself, and here Viktor was, lying. Ok, so maybe it was selective lying, but nonetheless, a false-hood is still and will always be one.

Without another word, Viktor just hugged the omega tighter to his chest and let his scent envelope Yuuri as they made their way to the kitchens. Yuuri hummed to himself. Another thing that took Yuuri almost the whole year to learn to appreciate: human touch. Because Yuri was absent, Viktor and Chris had taken turns snuggling up to the black-haired man, cuddling him nearly to death. Yuuri had greatly refused in the beginning, but with time, he came to accept that he was somewhat safe here within the walls of the castle and the people that had surrounded him were never,  _ever,_ going to hurt him. 

_One more day, Nikiforov. You can last until Yuri gets here later._

After Viktor had Yuuri eat a hearty bowl of apple oatmeal with cinnamon for breakfast under his watchful eye, the older omega dragged Yuuri back up into his room where Chris was already waiting for them, a stack of assorted clothing piled up on the chair that belonged to Yuuri's desk. The alpha stood and hugged both Yuuri and Viktor when they entered in his usual fashion. 

"Yuuri! Viktor! Get to see that you two finally finished breakfast!" His green eyes twinkled as he delivered the gentle barb. Viktor rolled his eyes.

"Well, I had to wake up sleeping beauty, here, and you  _know_ just how long that takes."

Yuuri blushed, nudging Viktor's shoulder lightly with his own.

"Shut up." he whispered, but the words made both Viktor and Chris beam. By Yuuri acting friendly towards them and even going as far as uttering a simple "shut up" was like a baby taking their first steps: wobbly and uncertain but progress nonetheless. Chris painfully remembered how Yuuri acted upon his arrival--at least once he had recovered enough to struggle into consciousness long enough for a few words to be exchanged. Yuuri had been deadly quiet and terrified, a haunted look in those wide, brown irises as he lazily watched life slip through his fingers.

To Chris, it was fucking terrifying to watch and to this day the alpha was still puzzled as to why Yuuri  _didn't_ throw himself out of a window with some of the looks the young omega cast in it's direction (not that Chris wanted him to. No, he would never want that). With every gaze into Yuuri's eyes Chris could see the lack of attachment to being alive in general, Yuuri wish for Death to claim his soul. Chris would be lying through his ass if he said that the knowledge that sweet, innocent Yuuri was a hair's breadth away from taking his own life didn't petrify him.

Because a world without Yuuri? No, that wouldn't be a proper world that Chris wanted to live in. The alpha might not have had romantic feelings for the omega, but ever since Yuuri had first arrived at the castle, unconscious with Death on his shoulder, Chris had wanted to make sure that Yuuri didn't face another hardship in his life. When Yuuri had nightmares about those bastard barbarians violating him, Chris would most likely be up for the rest of the night, twisting and turning in his own bed after being able to calm Yuuri down, too furious to even sleep. 

The protective instinct only grew as he had the privilege to watch for afar how Yuuri opened up to Yuri, little by little. A tiny sentence here, a story there, nothing major, nothing what most would call extraordinary, but to Chris, they meant the world; they meant that Yuuri was healing.

The past year had also been rough, but for the fact that Yuuri had tried desperately to deal with the loss of Yuri in his life. For nearly a week after Yuri had first departed Yuuri had all but locked himself in his room, only coming out in later weeks or food and eventually activities with Viktor and Chris himself. So yes, Chris might not have been able to contain the brilliant grin that took over his features, but he also didn't care. Not when it spoke such volumes of Yuuri's slowly repairing mental health. 

Viktor wandered to the stack of clothing and lifted the top item, studying it before throwing it behind him and onto the floor. 

"Really, Chris? I would have thought that even you would have the slightest bit of style. You know very well that we have to dress Yuuri to impress." Viktor continued to sort through the selection of clothing rapidly, comparing materials to each other and mumbling under his breath. Chris snorted at his behavior.

"I really don't think that Yu- uh, I mean  _anyone_ would care when Yuuri is wearing; he didn't say that we had to dress up." Chris pointed out cheekily.

"Wait, you two are dressing  _me_ up?" Yuuri asked incredulously. "Why?"

"Yuuri, I told you that today is going to be a day of celebrations and as the emperor's courting mate you should-"

"Viktor~!" Yuuri whined, throwing his head into his hands in a poor attempt to try and cover up his reddening cheeks from his two friends in the room "I'm not--We're not-"

"Yuuri, for goddsake you two kissed! And do you even know how happy you sounded about it when you first told me, hmmm? Let's see, it was the same morning that Yuri left for war, and you ran up to me with a really shocked expression and said-"

"Alright, Viktor." Chris intervened, shaking his head fondly, chuckling. "Cut him a break."

Viktor grumbled under his breath about how Chris was wrecking his fun, but was still smiling to himself as he held up a embroidered jacket to Yuuri's front.

"What do you think, Chris?"

"Uh... _no._ "

* * *

Yuuri was at his wits end. It had never occurred to him that Viktor and Chris cared so much about clothing, the appearance of one's self, and fashion, and he especially never once dreamed that it was one of their top priorities. Unfortunately for Yuuri, the two were determined to find the "perfect outfit" for the omega.

Yuuri had tried everything to get out of it. He claimed both fatigue and illness, but his two friends had lovingly captured him in his own room, Yuuri's clothing changes interrupted regularly with bouts of playful arguing over the selection of dress Chris had supplied. Yuuri meanwhile, was subjected completely and totally to the wills of the two older men, and while he was uncomfortable with the constant fussing and changing of outfits, he did appreciate the company and distraction. 

Recently, he had fallen into a sort of depression that his mind hadn't explored before. It was on a whole different level than his usual self-loathing and disgust, but on such a higher emotional platform he wasn't sure how he had even gotten there in the first place. He didn't know how to label it, but after an uncountable number of hours over the past month and a half of contemplation and self-analysis he had been able to brush up against the feeling and try to pin it down. 

It was a raw example of hopelessness mixed with an overwhelming dose of abandonment. It was primal and stemmed from his omegan instincts, untouchable in its sense of vulnerability. It struck its hardest late at night when the whole castle was lulled to sleep besides himself, normally awake and clutching at his hair or knees, one panic attack from shattering into a million pieces all over again. He would lay his head down on his too-empty bed and silent tears would spring from the corners, rolling down his cheeks and wetting his pillow underneath. The saddest thing was that Yuuri didn't even truly know why. All he knew was that he ached for a touch he couldn't name and a presence that remained a mystery. 

 _I guess I needed this._ Yuuri thought.  _Someone to pull me away from myself, even if it's not for all that long._

At the end of it all, Yuuri was left dressed in a navy blue velvet coat that ended behind the knees, stunning gold-thread embroidery sewn into the front near the buttons in extraordinary detail. Under the coat was a vest the color of a pale gold, the embroidery done up in shades of yellow and blue. Yuuri wore pants that stopped at his knees made of the same material as the jacket, the stark white socks he wore covering the rest of his legs. Yuuri studied himself in the large mirror, Viktor's giddy hands on his shoulders, his critical eye raking over the look. 

"What do you think, Chris?" Viktor asked, brow furrowed.

"I think you found it, Viktor. He looks good enough to eat." 

Viktor rolled his eyes at Chris' innuendo while Yuuri blushed, used to the shameless comments that the blond alpha threw left and right. He knew that it didn't mean anything. The older omega continued to look at him, chewing on his lip before he brightened and rushed to the bed where an assortment of small tubes were thrown carelessly. He grabbed one, smoothing a clear substance onto his fingers and approaching Yuuri once more, raking his fingers through the much smaller man's black hair, slicking it back. This time when Yuuri saw himself, he gasped. He no longer looked like his true, obnoxious, weak self once Viktor took away his tussled hair. Yuuri hadn't appreciated before how a simple change in the style of hair could change a whole person's demeanor, but now Yuuri looked powerful. He looked sexy.

"Perfect." Viktor breathed. 

Yuuri was almost too busy marveling at Viktor's work, but just about noticed Chris move from his position on the bed to the window, peeking his head past the curtains and scanning his eyes across the expanse of the grounds, but gave a displeased grunt upon the realization that whatever he was looking for was obviously not there.

"Damn, how long does it take?"

"Chris, it's not like we were given an exact time."

"Well I would have rushed onto a horse and ridden as hard as I could to get here fast enough!" He cried. Yuuri contemplated whether or not to say something; it seemed like Viktor and Chris had momentarily forgotten his presence.

"Are we supposed to have a guest?" Yuuri asked quietly, wondering if that was the true reason to the sudden care about his looks. At his question Viktor visibly stiffened for a fraction of a second, but it was immediately and expertly covered up before the whole expression could even be formed properly. The only reason why Yuuri was able to see it was the fact that back in the barbarian camp his ability to read his wardens was more often than not the buffer between a relatively calm rape and a beating, so the skill of his had been honed over time. Before Yuuri would properly address it, Chris answered.

"As a matter of fact, yes. He's on his way for the festival and celebrations tonight."

"Who is he?" Yuuri asked timidly. For reasons not quite known to him, Yuuri was starting to feel supremely uncomfortable. Chris gave him a devilish look.

"You'll see."

Yuuri wanted to try and pry for further information, but the alpha was already moving from the window, his signature smile on his face and the conversation completely dismissed from his mind. Yuuri tried not to take it to heart, but it was hard because he took everything to heart. His feelings were one of the only things he truly had.

Claiming that Yuuri staying in his new-found clothing was completely unnecessary due to the fact that the party was later tonight, Viktor helped Yuuri out of his garb and Yuuri dressed into his much more comfortable clothing, coincidentally, also the clothing that he typically slept in due to the softness of the material and the strangely comforting aspect of an over-sized shirt and short. After Yuuri was comfy and warm, tucked up against his pillows in a content bundle of blankets, Chris and Viktor voiced their temporary good-byes. Yuuri understood the fact that they had duties to attend to because of the celebrations later on, and especially so with the supposed guest due to arrive within sunset. Yet again, he was stuck contradicting himself, thankful for the alone time, but craving the presence of another human being. 

He was alone. Not the shallow physical form of the word, though he supposed that he was also in fact by himself in his room. No, Yuuri was  _alone._ Deep inside it was like an ache, a itch he couldn't scratch, that just fucked with every thought that he had. Yuuri hugged his knees to his chest and threw the covers over his head, sinking down and letting sleep consume him to escape his head.

It figures. Yuuri was doing  _so good,_ he was making so much progress, he felt  _safe_ even. 

_I guess Yuri took that with him too._

* * *

Yuuri woke to Viktor furiously shaking his shoulder, almost violently.

"Yuuri! Yuuri wake up!" His voice was half a decibel from shouting, excitement drenching itself in his scent and rolling out, making Yuuri's inner omega perk up in response. He blinked, wincing from the sudden exposure to the bright light of the late afternoon sun. When he opened his eyes Viktor nearly dragged him out of bed, his crystal-blue eyes dancing with a light that Yuuri hadn't seem in....well, never actually.

"Viktor?" Yuuri yelped, stumbling to his feet, sleep still clinging to him with a vengeance. Yuuri managed to pull his hand from the older omegas for a moment and took a few steps toward the window. Did this mean that the special guest was here? Who were they? Yuuri would be lying if he said he didn't want to snag a glance at the newcomer that would spark such an emotion in the silver-haired man's head. But before he could get more than a few feet Viktor's fingers were around Yuuri's upper arm again and yanked him in the opposite direction.

"There's no time! Come on!" Viktor said, giddy like a child.

Yuuri had no choice but to follow the larger man, nearly tripping down the steps and falling on his pace because Viktor's pace was absolutely insane. Yuuri would be surprised if he didn't come out of this experience without whiplash, that's how fast they were moving, Viktor urging them faster, not content with their current speed.

"Hurry, Yuuri! We're not gonna make it in time!"

"Viktor, I really think it's okay if I don't greet whoever this guest is the second they walk through the doors. I mean, I'm not  _nearly_ that important. You're part of the royal family; you should greet them!" Yuuri gasped, his shoulder glancing the side of a door. Viktor shook his head.

"No you  _don't understand._ "

Yuuri huffed, but didn't press the issue.  _Of course, I don't understand, you haven't told me anything!_

They bolted into the massive foyer where there was already a considerable amount of people lined up in two straight lines, facing each other. Yuuri of course found it odd, but he also took notice how the servants were practically glowing, the few lords and ladies that were there too, in fact,  _everyone_ looked like they were about to start cheering any second, as soon as one of them broke to the temptation.

"Viktor, what haven't you told me?" Yuuri asked, meeting Viktor's delighted demeanor and radiant smile. "Viktor...." Yuuri repeated, voice low and suspicious. Chris materialized at the older man's side, but before Yuuri could get another word out the groan of oak rang out and subconsciously Yuuri's eyes swung to the massive front doors, cringing as a loud shout rang up from everyone present. Yuuri blinked, too short from his vantage point off to the side to see what the fuss was about. He took a few steps to the side, scanning the crowd of people, glee on their faces. 

_What the hell could b-_

Yuuri froze, eyes burning holes into the figure striding into the room, another man that Yuuri recognized as Otabek next to him. All of the small pieces and suspicions that Yuuri had fell together to make a single, beautiful picture. Viktor's giddiness, the particularly careful attention to his appearance, the _special visitor_ mentioned before, gods it was all so obvious. Tall and blond, regal and commanding in every way, perfect for the role of emperor he stood, just how Yuuri remembered. 

_Yuri._

The omega was rigid in place, too shocked to move, too unbelieving to think for a moment that this isn't a wonderful dream that he would wake up from any moment by now, yet too hopeful to even halfheartedly deter his heart from trying to believe.

If this was a dream it would be his cruelest yet.

But then Yuri turned around, his green, green eyes settling perfectly on Yuuri's face and they widened, growing to an impossible size before Yuri rushed forward, practically shoving away anyone that didn't move, mouth parted and an almost scared look on his face. Definitely one of disbelief, but was that a small fleck of fear too?

Yuuri didn't know, didn't care, because his feet were propelling him straight across the floor, pulse pounding in his ears, breath heavy and desperate. 

And then he was being crushed up against a broad chest, arms like steel wire around his shoulders and waist, clutching at his over-sized shirt, shaking. Yuuri's hands gripped tightly at the rough material of the clothing worn from countless battles. Yuri was rubbing the flats of his wrists up and down Yuuri's back nearly frantically, his sides, his arms, anywhere that was within reach, the older male's scent heavily blanketing Yuuri, who reciprocated the action. Yuuri purred at the warmth coursing through his system before his brain had the chance to catch up with the situation at hand. Instead of pondering why his reactions were so strong when normally he was reserved Yuuri only nuzzling closer to Yuri. Gods, he felt  _safe_ again.

" _Yuuri~_ " Yuri shuddered, resting his head down on Yuuri's shoulder and prodding gently but firmly against Yuuri's primary scent gland with his nose, eyes squeezed tight, emotion thick and his voice shakier than his hands that wouldn't stop moving. It was if Yuri was saying his name like a prayer to save his life, planting a seed of doubt that everyone that Yuuri had ever known had said his name so horribly wrong before, because it had never sounded beautiful up until it had rolled off the blond's tongue.

"Yura." Yuuri whispered, relief surging through his veins and tears springing to his eyes. 

They parted just enough so their gazes could meet, their faces unbelievably close, breaths mingling together from their proximity. Yuuri's eyes were locked onto Yuri's but he didn't mind because they were just so  _beautiful._ Multiple layers of green were arranged in jagged patterns like broken glass, emeralds and side-by-side with jades in a pattern that was irregular and nonsensical but no less stunning. Yuuri could get lost in those eyes; they were always brimming with so much emotion is you looked and  _gods_ was Yuuri looking. 

The pad of a pale finger wandered up, tracing the shape of Yuuri's lips, making the omega nearly shiver in the contact. Yuri's eyes were desperate, heady, and yes, so so scared.

"Can I?" He asked, voice no higher than a whisper. 

Normally, Yuuri wouldn't say yes. He would shake his head sadly and push away, his anxious and insecure mind producing multiple scenarios and reasons as to why it was  _not_ a good idea, most of them making the point that Yuuri will only be hurt much more deeply later on. Normally, he wouldn't have even been so close to someone--especially an alpha--for this long, and not when there were so many other people around. 

But maybe Yuuri was done with what he normally subjected himself to. 

Maybe Yuuri wanted to change.

And maybe this was the first step.

In his entire life, Yuuri had never had a true chance to be happy. His childhood was ripped away and soon, also his virginity as he was shown nothing but torment from those that had hurt him most. Taken his family, Phichit, didn't stop their damage on his soul even when they were dead and Yuuri here. But then for one shining moment Yuuri allowed himself to remove every barrier he had set, splay out all of his emotions, thoughts, and feelings in front of the sweet alpha that had been more than kind to him. He had shown Yuri everything and despite it all the blond still accepted. Still ended up joining their lips in a fiery kiss for the first time, still confessed his love. 

Yuuri might not have been ready that night all those months ago, but he was now.

"Yes." Yuuri breathed, meeting Yuri halfway, letting his eyelids fall the same moment that Yuri did too.

The first touch was frantic, like they were still afraid that no matter what their bodies were saying, this was still just but a pleasant dream. But after the first clash of teeth and lips it melted into something sweet and needy. They clutched at each other with grasps that painted the same picture, spoke the same words. It was messy and halfway through Yuuri almost felt like laughing because he felt so light inside, but it was also what the both of them needed. They hadn't known how much they took each other's presence for granted until all of the sudden it was gone from their lives.

It may not have been choreographed, but it blew their first two kisses out of the water.

"Alright, Yuri! Let the little omega breathe!" Chris shouted over the general conversation throughout the foyer, walking over with Viktor in tow. Yuuri wasn't sure who pulled away first, but when they did it was slowly, mouths still within kissing distance. Yuri didn't let go--neither his gaze nor his grip--and Yuuri followed suit, feeling more than a little breathless.

"Shut up." was all that Yuri said. 

Yuuri was entranced, but he was able to tear his gaze away when Viktor pulled on his arm, earning himself a near growl from Yuri, the emperor's hands still holding on tight and trying to pull Yuuri back to him. Viktor snorted.

"You took so long getting here that I'm surprised that the party didn't start without you. If you had shown up earlier than I would have let you be all lovey-dovey, but now, dear cousin, let your Yuuri go so he can get dressed, hmm? Unless you want the other lords to see him in nothing but a shirt and booty-shorts." Viktor raised his eyebrows high on his forehead. "Besides, you really need to clean up yourself there, tiger."

Yuri wanted to bare his teeth and  _growl_ at the prospect of letting go of his Yuuri already; he just got him back damnit! It wasn't his fault that one of the wagon wheels broke and they had to stop! Now was his time with Yuuri, who he hadn't seen in nearly a whole fucking  _year,_ thank you very much, but now he had to part ways with the omega? Hell no!

"No." Yuri said flatly. Viktor was lucky that there weren't any cuss words courtesy of his long repertoire, but Yuri vividly recalled how Yuuri had first reacted when Yuri cursed in front of him and he never wanted to repeat that experience, especially with the lot of time that they had spent apart. Yuri didn't know what Yuuri was comfortable with anymore.

Without another word to their company or a glance at Viktor's shocked expression and Chris' amused one, Yuri grabbed Yuuri's wrist and tugged him away from their meddling friends. They climbed the stairs and navigated the hallways in silence, and Yuuri didn't even question why they walked right past Yuuri's room besides a hint of confusion that could be detected in the omega's scent. No, right now Yuri needed some Yuuri time. 

Before long he was striding past the doors to Yuri's chambers, Yuuri behind him letting out an inhale of surprise.  _That's right; he's never been in my chambers before._ Yuri led them across the floor of the opening sitting room and into his bedroom, closing the door and dragging the omega with him onto the massive bed without a word and into Yuri's arms. Yuuri didn't protest like Yuri was expecting, didn't balk at the physical touch or closeness. Then again, he didn't do any of those things when they had reunited in the foyer, even letting Yuri  _kiss him._ Which was amazing, by the way. The feeling was just....too exquisite for words.

They were laying on their sides so the both of them were facing each other, Yuuri melting himself against the embrace of the older, arms around Yuri's trim waist. Yuri's own limbs curled around the omega, one idly drawing shapes on his back and the other stationary at the back of Yuuri's neck, just barely touching the soft black curls. Yuri pulled his head back, carefully raking his eyes down Yuuri's body in a protective manner. He took great pleasure--especially his inner alpha--over the fact that Yuuri still wore his crest upon his pale throat. How did he fair in their time apart? Was he okay? Did he still have nightmares? Anxiety?

"How are you?" Yuri asked gently, quietly, just for Yuuri. 

Now was their time. No on else's. No one else got to have these moments.

"I'm...." Yuuri paused, a contemplative look on his face. He seemed to weigh multiple answers before settling on one. "....okay, I guess. I'm still a little broken, though. Still have nightmares occasionally, and will sometimes get depressed and anxious, but ever since you've left I-I've had a lot of time to think, and I didn't know I needed that until I had it. Been able to sort through stuff in my head. Come to terms with some of it, bury the hatchet so to speak in others." 

Yuri nodded to show he was listening, meeting Yuuri's beautiful eyes. 

"But?" Yuri said when Yuuri ceased talking. His eyebrows scrunched a little. Did something happen that Yuuri didn't want to tell him? Yuuri bit his lip, debating his words once more before opening his mouth.

"But....these past few months especially, well, I've gotten....a little lonely. Viktor, Chris, and Mickey are all great company, but it's like I've needed some _one,_ just not them. The frustrating thing is that I don't even know what I need." Yuuri huffed, pulling away a little before softening his features. "But you have no idea how happy I am now that you're back. I don't have to worry that Otabek is going to show up one of these days by himself." At the end of his sentence, Yuuri's voice got thick and he buried his head in the crook of Yuri's shoulder. The blond let him and wrapped his arms tighter.

"I've missed you." Yuuri whispered. 

"I've missed you too, Yuuri. I used to fantasize about when the war would be over; when I would see you again. I used to be worried about if you were okay here without me. And of course later I had those thoughts about what would happen if you had to live the  _rest_ of your life without me, normally when I suffered a more drastic wound in battle. I would despair temporarily, but then kick my a-uh, self, back into gear and think about how utterly ridiculous it would be for me to die then."

Yuuri smiled faintly against Yuri's skin.

"You can curse in front of me, Yuri."

"Are you sure? Doesn't it upset you?"

Yuuri shook his head.

"I know that you aren't actually mad at me when you curse, you just say them a lot. It's okay, really." Yuuri picked his head up from where it rested and smiled, the grin tiny. "I told you, I've been able to sort a few things out over the past months with all of the thinking I did."

Yuri hummed and smiled back, a little blown away with how easy it came. His norm over the past year had been grimaces and scowls, but oh was he looking to change that as quickly as possible.  _I just had a year of utter shit,_ He thought.  _This year I'm doing nothing but cuddling with Yuuri. Start courting, go on dates...._ Yuri trailed off, thinking about all of the things that he wanted to do after he spent some time stabilizing his country. He'd have to strengthen his political and personal ties to the barbarians in the promotion of goodwill between the two countries and try and smother out and please some of the more radical protesting groups that had sprung up in his absence. Kick a few of the lords out of his court because they turned out to be worth less than a wet rag. Just some maintenance, but sooner rather than later things will be back to normal and he could spend the majority of his time courting his sweet omega.

_Fuck that let's just run away and be gay together._

A hand on his cheek snapped him from his thoughts and diverted all of his attention to it's owner. Yuuri. 

"What about you? Are you alright?"

Yuri wanted to say yes, he really did. But he knew that that would be a lie and there was no way that he would lie to the man that he confessed to the last time they saw each other. For the most part Yuri was okay, but he suspected that he wouldn't be able to sleep correctly for quite a while and all of the people that he killed in battle would haunt him in the long run.  _My own personal fucking ghosts._

"The war is over. Beka and the majority of my men are alive, and I'm back here with you; I'm a lot better than say....a month ago." Yuri answered carefully. Not technically a lie, but he hated lies in general and this was the closest he would get to anyone he cared about. 

"You're sure?" Yuuri asked, looking up at Yuri with wide, caring, brown eyes.  _Fuck._ "I mean, I don't want you to just say that for me."

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-_

"N-no, trust me, I'm better than before, especially with the war gone and dead."

Yuuri still looked like he was doubting Yuri, but he didn't press the issue too much, crushing the uncertainty in his scent for a tone that suggested relief. 

"I'm glad that the war is over. It's been what, eleven years?" Yuuri asked, laying back down, snuggling closer to Yuri. 

"Twelve. Twelve years, my father's fighting and mine. But yeah, I'm glad too."

They settled into silence and Yuri took advantage of it to  _relish_ in the scent of Yuuri all around him and the seemingly familiar weight up against his side. So soft, so pleasant, so fucking  _right._

"I should get back to my room and get ready for the party." Yuuri broke in reluctantly, though not making a move to get up and act on his observation of what he had to do sooner rather than later. 

"You can stay a little longer." Yuri said, clutching at Yuuri's waist a little harder. Alright, so maybe he  _was_ still more than a little uncomfortable with letting go of Yuuri so soon. Maybe he was a little attached, but he had  _missed_ the omega so much it  _hurt._ Hurt like a bitch and left his chest feeling empty and aching whenever he had let his thoughts stray to the lovely black-haired beauty waiting for him in his castle. But he just had to keep Yuuri longer, and not just because of his alpha instincts that were screaming in his head for him to locate a small and secluded space where he could tuck Yuuri away from the world ad protect him. 

Yuuri let out a small laugh but agreed that yes, he could stay for a little longer. And that 'little longer' stretched until Viktor eventually kicked down the door, demanding that they both needed to get ready because the party would start any minute (Yuri doubted that it would start so soon, but whatever) and that the royal family would not be late to the celebrations over the cease of a twelve-year-long war on his watch (Yuri also brought up the fact that he was the emperor and could do whatever the fuck he wanted, thank you very much, but Viktor only huffed and pulled Yuuri down the hall before Yuri could do anything about it).

* * *

Yuri wanted to fucking kill the stupid alpha in front of him. The party had started hours ago, and while he had mostly spent the time with Otabek, Yuuri, and Mila, he had to play the role of a responsible and fair emperor, and play to the roles of society, mingling with the members of his court. And of course that also meant that he had to  _talk_ and  _interact_ with Lord Leroy, no matter how much Yuri despised the man.

"What will the focus of your emperoracy be now that the war is over, my lord?" the man in front of him asked, a wide and fake smile on his face. Yuri restrained from smacking the man.

When he had first taken rule of the throne, there had been plenty of oppositions to his rule, including but not limited to protests, threats, and, ah,  _gentle_ reminders of his age. After Yuri had taken the liberty to reinforce his ruler and show that he was much more than a teenager that new more than he let on, most of the hostility lessened, as his adviser claimed it would, but there were still those that questioned his legitimacy. One of the leaders in that was Lord Leroy. 

"Lord Lero-"

"Please," the man interrupted, and amused look in his eye, "call me Jean. We're all friends here, are we not?"

" _Yes._ " Yuri grounded out, jaw clenched, eyes smoldering. "I want to focus on strengthening my position as ruler and  _weed out those that want to pull me down._ " Yuri finished. It was the closest that he has ever gotten to outright telling the man to go fuck himself gently with a sword like he wants to, and while the rules of etiquette always constrain him, Yuri is ruthlessly pleased with the wide-eyed look of shock he is greeted with and the half-assed excuse of being needed somewhere else he is given before the older man disappears into the crowd. 

 _Asshole,_ Yuri hums internally. It may not have been too wise, what he just did, but he was too happy about it to feel remorse.

Yuri, champagne in hand, weaves his way through the throng of nobles, scanning the faces before him for his friends. Being the emperor certainly had its perks, but one of the drawbacks was that he always had to be so polite to people, especially when he wanted nothing more than to tell all of the kiss-ups to get the fuck away from him. So while Yuri looked for someone that he actually wanted to talk to, he accepted the handshakes and words of praise from the people he brushed up against, trying his hardest to keep his impatience from bleeding into his scent. Though it doesn't last and it eventually does, but he is too busy silently thanking mother nature to even attempt at repressing it once it leaks out from his grip of control. He eventually spots Otabek near one of the outer edges of the ballroom, half hidden in shadows. Otabek hates these things almost as much as Yuri does.

"Hey," he says when he gets near, finally feeling like he is able to breathe again now that he's not nearly as close to the stuffy Lords and Ladies that coagulated together as if they were part of a larger whole. "Where's everyone else?" he adds after noticing that Yuuri nor Mila were anywhere to be seen.

Something akin to a smirk twitched on Otabek's lips as the older man gestured vaguely towards the dance floor. 

"Viktor and Chris took it upon themselves to.... _introduce_ Yuuri to alcohol."

Yuri felt the blood drain from his face.

"Those bastards did  _what?_ " He asked incredulously. Otabek snorted and took a swig of his own glass of champagne. 

"Yuuri was feeling a little uncomfortable with all of the people while I only caught on to their plan in the later stages, Viktor and Chris made sure that he is somewhere  _past_ drunk to try and solve the problem. I don't know how they managed to convince him to start drinking in the first place, but they did." 

And within moments Yuri found himself audience to something that he would never in his wildest dreams ever think he would be able to witness, especially with what he knew about Yuuri. 

Chris was stripped of his shirt, his pants riding low on his hips as he chugged down another flute of the bubbly golden liquid. Viktor was a little more put together, just missing his outer robes as he and Yuuri whirled around on the dance floor. Yuuri, however, had lost both his vest and coat, in nothing but his pants and white dress shirt as he danced with Yuri's cousin. They both seemed oblivious to the small crowd that they had attracted, and they laughed as they wound closer and closer, moving right to the beat.

Viktor's hand was on Yuuri's hip as he dipped him, ridiculously low to the ground and Yuuri went with it, throwing an arm back with him and  _goddamn winking_ at one of the Lords that managed at catch his eye.  _Holy fucking shit._ Yuri's breath hitched. He had no idea that Yuuri was a good dancer, and such a  _sinful_ one at that, judging from the blush dusting more than half of the people around him (and probably his own).

Yuri couldn't tear his gaze away from how Yuuri swayed his hips to the beat of drums, nor how his limbs moved fluidly with the crescendo of the violins. Gods, just the way that he  _moved,_ and just  _holy fuck._

He was  _not_ jealous. Nope. Not at all. 

"Emperor Yuri~!" Chris called, sashaying right up to his side and laughing too loudly. He too of course, is drunk. "Isn't be amazing! So beautiful and sexy and tall and-" 

Yuri had been absent-mindedly nodding along with that Chris said, but when he mentioned tall, Yuri had to snap his neck to the right, looking at the other alpha with a crazy expression. Yuuri was a lot of things--stunning, adorable, unbelievably kind--but he was not  _tall._ He followed Chris' unfocused eyes across to the two figures dancing to the end stretch of the song, and Yuri came to the conclusion that Chris was staring at  _Viktor._

"Ew. Gross, Chris! If you're going to make googly-eyes at my cousin do it somewhere else!" Yuri cried, shoving the drunk man away. He shivered. Yuri didn't want anything to do with Viktor's sex life. 

To both Yuri's dismay and relief the song ended and Yuuri and Viktor stumbled off the dance floor, arms around each other. Yuri strode forward, passing his flute of champagne to a waiter walking by and stopped right in front of the two drunk omegas, who only noticed him when they practically ran straight into him. 

"Yuri!" An overzealous Yuuri called, flinging himself onto the blond with both arms, laughing in Yuri's ear and nuzzling his neck. Yuri gasped and staggered back a step or two at the sudden weight settled over him, but still let the smile take hold of his face. He would never pass up the opportunity to hold Yuuri.

"Yuuri," he asked, managing to pull away from Yuuri's octopus grasp enough to look down at the smaller man in his arms. "are you okay? Why did Viktor and Chris let you have so much to drink?"

Yuuri only tipped his head back and laughed, a clear and mirthful thing that spread warmth through Yuri's bones because  _holy fuck_ was Yuuri beautiful when he laughed like that. The musicians that were responsible for the entertainment of the night picked their instruments back up and started out on another song, fast paced and sensual. He recognized it from the score of music that the musicians played fairly regularly. On Love: Eros. 

The omega in his arms immediately brightened and grabbed Yuri's hands, pulling a slightly unwilling young emperor with him onto the dance floor among the others that were enjoying the song. Yuuri stopped somewhere in the middle of the floor and turned on a heel instantly capturing Yuri's eyes and attention, grabbing his hands and leading them in a dance. 

Yuri tries to hide his surprise because  _no one_ has ever,  _ever,_ led him a dance, considering his status of emperor and a powerful alpha, but Yuuri, sweet Yuuri who was technically a commoner and an omega, was leading Yuri like it was the most natural thing in the world. And to top it all off, Yuri's body and mind didn't balk at it or think  _wait a minute, this it wrong,_ like it would have for anyone else. 

But gods was it fun. 

Yuuri led him into a underarm twirl and Yuri just let himself melt into Yuuri's lead, laughing in glee as he found himself actually enjoying the turn events that tonight had taken. The tempo slightly calmed down and before long Yuri found himself spun into the leading position, a much smaller Yuuri looking up at him, eyes twinkling in the light, the heat from Yuuri's body bathing Yuri, something  _else_ that Yuuri was innocently doing to fluster Yuri. With a smile that promised revenge on what Yuuri was doing to him, Yuri set out immediately in a sensual and fast-paced series of spins and footwork, a dip thrown in for good measure. 

Yuri had thought that he had Yuuri. The omega was drunk and slurred all of his words, but apparently there was nothing in this world that could damper Yuuri's marvelous dance skills because even as incapacitated as he was, Yuuri managed to outdo Yuri, once again turning the tides and leaving the blond alpha the flustered one. Vaguely, Yuri was aware of Otabek watching in the front of the crowd, a smile on his face, but Yuri was so consumed with staring at Yuuri's brown eyes and feeling the sway of his hips, and so many other small nuances that were just so  _Yuuri._

He wasn't sure how long the song lasted, or how much time had passed, but it was like their own bubble, devoid of the world, and for a moment, it was just them. No one else existed. Yuuri and Yuri. Just Yuuri and Yuri. 

But of course, the song ended and the notes died away, but Yuri was a little disappointed that it had to happen so soon. He couldn't remember the last time that he had had so much  _fun,_ especially at one of these balls, regardless of the occasion. The grin on his face was so wide that it  _hurt,_ but Yuri wasn't going to do away with it any time soon. Otabek greeted them when they stepped off of the dance floor and Yuri just rolled his eyes at his best friend's cocked eyebrow, too content to throw an insult in his normal manner.

"Yuri Plisetsky, are you actually enjoying yourself at a party?" he asked.

"Maybe I am." was all that Yuri said, throwing an arm around Yuuri and pulling him close. The omega giggled before nearly collapsing. 

"Woooaaahhh! Yuuraa everything is so  _bluuurrryy!_ " he cried, another laugh bubbling out of his mouth. 

"Okay, you have had  _way_ too much to drink." Yuri helped Yuuri find a seat and beckoned a waiter over, taking a glass of water from his tray. "Here," he said, thrusting the glass into Yuuri's fingers and guiding it up to his lips. "drink this. Sober Yuuri tomorrow will certainly thank you."

Instead of opening his mouth and accepting the water like Yuri hoped, the younger man crunched his face up and shook his head. 

"No, water's boooring."

"I'm fully aware." Yuri said dryly, his left eyebrow sky-high on his face. "But you need water in your system. Drink, Yuuri." 

Yuuri continued to whine about the bores of water and other such drinks, and Yuri couldn't help but roll his eyes fondly at the omega's antics.

"Come on, for me. Do it for me Yuuri."

"Can I kiss you afterwards?" Yuuri asked, a drunken smile of his face. The question certainly took Yuri by surprise, and he couldn't help but feel a deep blush blossom on his face. For a minute he was at a loss for words, but regained his poise after a few seconds of speechlessness. 

"Y-yeah, Yuuri. You can kiss me, j-just finish the water."

Yuuri practically pounced on the glass in Yuri's hand, chugging it down as fast as possible and handing it back before surging forward and connecting their lips in a sloppy and messy kiss, teeth clacking. Yuri gasped, barely able to keep the glass in his hands as feelings burst to life with the kiss. It didn't last nearly long enough, for just when he was trying to deepen it, Yuuri leaned back, a dreamy smile on his cute features. 

For the second time Yuri was rendered speechless.

* * *

After Yuri was able to make Yuuri drink the water and finish the last dance that Yuuri demanded, he pulled Yuuri close to him and explained to Otabek of his departure, gesturing helplessly to the man at his hip. It was well past midnight when they finally left. 

Navigating the hallways in the dark were no problem for the young alpha for he had grown up roaming these very halls, but hauling a drunk partner with him was the most challenging part. Halfway through Yuri just ended up picking Yuuri up into his arms which the omega didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, Yuri was so preoccupied with Yuuri, he didn't even realize that he hadn't been traveling to the proper room in the first place, only realizing it when he walked through the doors to his chambers. Yuri groaned audibly before turning around, prepared to walk all the way back to Yuuri's own room and would have if Yuuri hadn't whined. 

"Noooo Yuurraa! I wanna stay with yoouuu!" he complained, nuzzling his nose right against Yuri's scent gland on the side of his neck.

_What the hell._

Yuri managed to open the door to his bedroom with half a hand and close it with a foot, gently laying Yuuri on the bed and helping him out of his dress shirt, pants, and tall party socks, throwing him in the longest shirt that Yuri owned, making it basically a dress on the much shorter omega. He changed out of his own party clothes and settled onto the bed, reaching down for the sheets when Yuuri rolled on top of him. There was a look in his brown eyes that Yuri hadn't seen before, only a different version of it on the dance floor.

"Yuuri, wha-"

He was cut off by Yuuri dropping down, capturing both of their mouths in a kiss, this one much more skilled than before. Yuri gasped, surprised, but Yuuri only deepened it, fitting his body right up against Yuri's larger one. 

"Want....you...." Yuuri panted in between kisses, pupils blown wide.

It may not have been expected, but it was much appreciated, Yuri grinning before using his strength to roll the two of them over, pinning Yuuri down to the bed with his body, relishing in the feeling of Yuuri's hands against his chest. Using his tongue Yuri invaded the depths of Yuuri's mouth for the first time, the taste so much sweeter than he imagined. It was hot and needy, the two of them making out on Yuri's bed, the faint hint of arousal and slick permeating the air around the both of them.

But of course, they couldn't no matter how much Yuri  _wanted_ to. 

He pulled away, gasping for breath, immediately wanting to resume their activities with the needy whine that escaped Yuuri's throat. 

" _Yura~_ "

"No, no, Yuuri, we can't."

Yuuri stuck out his bottom lip and downright pouted.

"But Yuurrraa! You said before that you looovveed me! Isn't this what people do when they love each other?" 

Yuri's heart lurched in his chest because gods did he want to when Yuuri just looked so beautiful below him, lips a little swollen from the kisses. But alas, he  couldn't take advantage of Yuuri when he was drunk and unsuspecting, regardless of what he seemed to want now. 

"Yuuri, please, just not now. I still love you, I swear, but not tonight, okay?" he pleaded. 

Yuuri still looked uncertain, but with a little more gentle persuasion he let the matter go in favor for cuddling up to Yuri's chest like a cat, tucking his head under Yuri's chin and curling up together, looking sleepy. Yuri had to restrain a chuckle, but he slipped his arms around the omega's waist, eagerly drinking in the contact.

"Sleep, Yuuri, I'll watch over you." Yuri whispered, stroking his hair. 

And within minutes Yuuri was sound asleep, practically drooling he was so boneless. 

The warmth of Yuuri's body against his, the floral scent in the air, it was all too comforting, too much, because Yuri found his eyes closing and his breath deepening as he fell into the embrace of his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. fluff. or not, I guess. idk this chapter just really seemed like a let down.
> 
> tbh I really tried with the fluffiness, but the whole being injured isn't all that conducive for writing stuff like this; sorry for the crappyness of my writing. BESIDES THAT, my cousin visited me, and since I had like nothing to do b/c (computer time is limited) I ran out of fanfiction and was frustrated with this chapter, she made me a tumblr, which has certainly entertained me these past few days. 
> 
> As always, you guys are fucking awesome (you have no idea) and you have no clue how much your comments mean to me and feed my muse, whether they are yelling at me for writing something heart wrenching or sobbing b/c of a sweet moment between our two boys. i just love you all so much you guys don't even know <3 <3 <3
> 
> you can come scream about the story or my lack of updating here in the comments or on tumblr and like I said, I really am just watching the clock to pass the time, so the next chapter (should???) be up at like the end of the weekend. Thank you guys for waiting for so long, but trust me on the fact that I had no intentions of nearly dying from a pneumothorax (btw, that makes breathing /really/ hard. Just like, never realized how effortless it was before...you know)
> 
> i love you all so much <3 <3 <3 <3
> 
> my tumblr: reality-ao3
> 
> (unbeta'd, so excuse my mistakes. honestly rn I'm at the "fuck this shit" mood of my recovery, so I didn't even really read it over. Forgive me. I have zero patience and no beta)


	14. Plots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this is late, and I apologize, but my that car accident I was in really messed shit up, but don't worry, I'm fine now :) (all you guys that were worried about me: you're too kind ;~; )
> 
> So, have fun with S.S. Revenge-Bitch Takashi, and get a pillow to scream into.
> 
> ANYWAYS, it's okay if you scream, threaten, and promise to hunt me down for the suspense crime that I have committed in the comments or even on my new tumblr; I am okay with that

 

**One month later...**

 

Yuri sat, poised on his throne, his calculated and carefully planned out posture disguising the intense irritation raging beneath the surface. Particularly his irritation with the ensemble of Lords and Ladies that consisted of his personal court. These weekly processions had resumed upon his return and the end of the war, but Yuri had never remembered them as this annoying. Honestly, the whole "art of politics" was absolute bullshit. There was nothing amazing about people lathering on fake pleasantries with even faker looks of genuine interest and friendship.

But of course, irregardless of the fact that Yuri was the emperor and had no higher power governing him (except perhaps his morals, but he had none that pertained to his court) he still could not force his way out of the rules of etiquette and tell almost all of these people to kindly fuck off. Despite the fact that they were some of the most low-life, back-stabbing assholes Yuri had had the displeasure to meet, he couldn't make respectable and non-corrupted noble families magically appear for the replacements of his court, and he certainly couldn't give them a piece of his mind because he happened to like being alive, and quite a few of the Lords and Ladies had charges of attempted and organised assassination brought upon them in court (which were mysteriously dropped or had the verdicts in their favor). The only one he could bother standing was Otabek and his family, but that was because unlike the rest of them Otabek had common sense and happened to  _not_ be an idiot.

Of course, his intense irritation could stem from the fact that he would much rather be in bed with Yuuri instead of sitting and listening to a bunch of idiots recount events Yuri already had the knowledge of a while ago and squabble like-

"Children! The lot of you I say, are children! You sir, are a child if you think that such matters of those in poverty matter to us. You-" the Lady shouting pointed a finger to another one of the overweight nobles. "-are the epitome of infantile if you think that I am going to sit here and listen to you and your lies about the barbarians needing to be treated with respect. And you-"

Yuri grit his teeth. Lady Ivanov was one of the more vocal members of Yuri's court. She was set in the prejudiced ways of her parents and boasted the most close-minded perspective of the world Yuri had yet to see rivaled. More than half of what she said were flat out insults and lies, often not curtained by the falseness of court. She was brash and arrogant like Yuri himself, but at least Yuri knew when to shut his mouth.

Yuri glanced at his servant, Minami, and the boy discreetly flashed him a series of numbers: the time. The blond alpha almost roared out of frustration. He had little less than an hour before midday, and by the way that the court processions were going, he would miss his lunch with Yuuri!

Most times at least, Yuri mended, he could keep his mouth tamed in court.

Yuri stood, the picture of regal stature, his head held high and shoulders drawn out wide enough to make him look even larger than his normal already above average build. A few of the more respectable nobles saw him stand and they turned, giving him their attention. Lady Ivanov and her party of "children" as she dubbed, kept arguing.

"Lady Ivanov." Yuri boomed, projecting his voice as far as possible to smother any doubt that he would be misheard or ignored. She faltered in her spiel, looking at him with wide eyes and sitting promptly. Yuri smiled, but it was without warmth. These nobles may have had a large majority of power altogether and would make formidable enemies, but Yuri was the most dangerous of them all and they knew it. Yuri caught Otabek's gaze and the older man raised an eyebrow, mouthing the words _keep it under control_ silently.

Politics was a game of weaving words out of nothing and Yuri was adept at it.

Yuri's next words were as sharp as the sword he kept belted to his waist.

"I think that it is safe to say that we as a whole hold a very small portion of the power. The real power lies in the people that we have the responsibility to govern, and if you think that their issues do not concern us I would plead for you to reevaluate your diagnosis. They have the means to revolt and we all know that; it is a fact we face as part of the ruling class." Yuri stepped down from the dais that his throne was positioned on and clasped his hand behind his back. "And as for the barbarians, they are valiant opponents that have been fighting this war as long as we have. They were also the ones to initiate the diplomatic relations that ended the war; a fact that I can testify personally to because I was there. They deserve all of our respect as a military ensemble and civilization, and you would find that if we relinquish them of that we could very well be facing another conflict in our shared futures."

Yuri looked as Lady Ivanov in the eye, her face beet red in the personal humiliation that Yuri was dealing her. "I would also like to suggest that repeatedly calling fellow adults names in court for the reason of them having different opinions is ironically, childish."

Lady Ivanov hung her head, fists tightly gripping the table in front of her.

"We will meet again one week from 'morrow. Court adjourned." Yuri said, already stalking away from the crowd of nobles leaving their seats, Minami hot of his heels. Even with his haste exit, Yuri was able to catch the sight of Otabek wistfully shaking his head at his best friend's antics.

"Court was abnormally brutal this week." he said, trying valiantly to keep up with Yuri's long stride. On any other occasion, the blond might have subtly slowed his rapid pace, but today, he had somewhere to be.

"Honestly I think that Lady Ivanov got off pretty cleanly; I could tell that you were this close-" Minami held up two fingers a millimeter apart, "-to losing every shred of etiquette." Yuri only grumbled to himself under his breath. Minami wasn't wrong; there were few people that could see the signs of him about to blow up in court and the faithful servant was one of them. Otabek was another, as was Yuuri, Chris, Viktor, and Mila.

He continued like that until he was within a few hallways of Yuuri's room, brightening at the thought of the lovely omega.

"Minami, don't summon me for the next three hours unless someone is dying; I would like some peace and quiet with Yuuri." Yuri said, ignoring the boy's smirk.

"Yes, sir."

And then Yuri was striding into the room of his beloved, smiling genuinely for the first time that day at the sight of Yuuri relaxed on the window seat of his bedroom, a book in hand, the sunlight shining down on the crown of his head and painting him in a golden glow. Yuuri didn't look up from his novel, but he did smile upon Yuri's entrance.

"Something tells me that court didn't go very well?"

Yuri scowled at the reminder of his wasted hours babysitting adults that may as well be classified as idiots for their contributions to today's discussion. He scooted himself next to Yuuri on the window seat, curling himself together like a cat to fit his large body into the small space, resting his head on Yuuri's stomach.

"I have a court made up of idiots." he huffed.

Yuuri laughed, and even if it was at Yuri's expense he really didn't mind. Yuuri's laughs were much more frequent than before they had started their courting, but every time it was still music to Yuri's ears. Some of it stemmed from his alpha instincts taking it as a sign of him being a good and caring mate, but the largest portion of his love of Yuuri's laugh was because of how pure and care-free it sounded.

Of course he would sacrifice his dignity to hear that wonderful sound.

"Even Otabek?" Yuuri asked, a wide grin on his features. Yuri rolled his eyes.

"Of course not Otabek."

"But you said everyone." Yuuri countered, the grin only getting wider. Yuri started to grumble again, but this time it was jokingly about his disloyal boyfriend and his treacherous ways.

"Don't be a smart ass." The insult wasn't anything more than a mild jab and from the wonderful sound of Yuuri's laugh, the omega knew it too, putting down his book in favor for cupping Yuri's face and gently forcing him to look up so their lips could meet in a brief but loving kiss.

The action only cemented Yuri's belief that Yuuri's kisses were a religious experience.

Yuuri pulled away and Yuri nearly let out a whine at the loss of contact, but managed to hold it back at the last minute. He wasn't that desperate, thank you very much (okay, that was a lie, but Yuri would never admit it out loud). Yuri might not have been able to have the particular type of contact that he craved, but he did keep their faces mere inches apart, breaths mingling with their intimacy.

"We were supposed to have lunch, right?" Yuuri asked, his voice quiet and light, brown eyes boring themselves into Yuri's green ones. Yuri subconsciously responded with his own "Yes," even though Yuri didn't want to move from his perch. He wanted to sit there and study Yuuri's angelic beauty. Map out every dip and valley of lean muscle on his lithe frame, sear the exact pattern of the gold flecks in Yuuri's irises to his brain. Yuuri smiled, and Yuri felt warmth spread from his whole body in a direct result of the action.

"Then come on. The weather's nice; how about a picnic?"

* * *

Christoh Weber was an officer in the army, leader of over three dozen men, serving under his general--Artyom Takashi's--command. He had fought in the war since it had started, but he had been injured in battle a few months before the treaty was signed and was honorably discharged to recuperate in the peace of home. After the war had ended, he had been one of the first ones to greet and congratulate his leader, king, and friend Artyom at the castle. He had been there for the celebrations and parties along with his wife, Sylvia.

Three or so weeks after the armies had first parted ways the majority of the diplomatic relations were over, which only served to further rouse the country into happiness. Trade deals, peace agreements, and the new alliance were now fully formed and set into motion, cementing the treaty itself and convincing the citizens that the war was finally and utterly over. Everything was taking a delightful turn for the better, a luxury that hadn't been seen for years.

Until it wasn't.

Exactly three days ago and--Christoh looked up at the sky to gauge the time--sixteen hours ago Artyom had received a message. After the General had paid Artyom a visit all those months ago, Artyom had set up a small but complex spy network to keep an eye on his brother's schemes, made up of six men. Those men would rotate their vigils, sending a messenger pigeon once every fortnight with the whereabouts of the General and any new information they could gather. If a message was urgent, a pigeon would be sent earlier than the fortnight, but up until recently that was not an issue. 

It had been a calm night, not particularly exciting, but Christoh was at the castle for personal business when an injured pigeon stumbled through the window of Artyom's personal quarters, a shredded piece of paper on its back. It's message was chilling.

_The General is on the move. Warn Kaiser Plisetsky and Katsuki Yuuri: their lives are in danger. The exact means are unclear but-_

The rest was torn away, the paper splattered with dried blood. 

And so the pressure of rushing to their new allies to warn them of a possible assassination via a member of their royal family fell on seven messengers, Christoh being one of them. He hadn't bothered with a guard to protect him from bandits like some of the other men did, trusting in his own skill with a sword to get him by. Christoh had taken nothing but food and water in his haste, and he remembered vividly how one of his closest friends, Artyom, had helped him, throwing in bread and meat into a sack, fear in his eyes. It wasn't something that Christoh had normally seen because there was not much that Artyom feared, but Christoh could appreciate this terror. If anything happened to the young emperor or the omega he was courting, it would be taken as another attack and war would once again rain down on their heads. 

But it would be a war they could not survive. This past twelve-year war had nearly left them bankrupt and all of their resources nearly depleted. Another conflict would end them, so if there was anything that could stop their destruction, it would be arriving in time to properly warn their new allies of the possible attack.

Christoh and the other messengers had all taken different paths to try and increase their chances, but he didn't doubt that he was the farthest. Christoh had been a messenger for most of the war itself and his body was accustomed to the grueling task of non-stop traveling, eating in a saddle, and going up to two days without rest. The six others weren't slouches, mind you, but they just didn't have the same drive.

Christoh picked his jerky out of the fire, judging it to be cooked sufficiently and popping the tough meat into his mouth. He was camped for the moment to give his steed respite before the next leg of their journey. Christoh had made it past the borders of his home-land and was about a day of hard riding until he would be close enough to encounter the first city, but even then, he doubted that there would be any way to get there in time for a proper warning. At the pace he was traveling Christoh would arrive at the capital in about a week, but then again, that was at a back-breaking pace and already his horse looked about ready to keel over from the heavy exertion. 

He sighed before laying down, bunching his cloak up under his head to act as a pillow, moving a little bit closer to the dying embers for heat. He could afford a few short hours of sleep while his horse rested. Christoh closed his eyes and deepened his breathing, searching for the dreams that would visit him tonight. 

It was peaceful, laying there in the dense forests of their neighboring country. He sighed in contentment, body relaxing. It was good to finally-

Christoh cried out and flailed his arms, his voice coming out strangled. He snapped his eyes open and they darted to the hulking figure with the build of a grizzly bear the man's hands snaked around Christoh's neck. Unfortunately, Christoh recognized the man. He had always had a small suspicion in the back of his head that he would have to face a scenario like this with how sensitive the information he was carrying was, but this was different. This was  _real._

The General.

Christoh dug his fingernails into the hand of the General in an effort to try and lessen the firm grip the General had on his windpipe, but it was to no avail; his hand was like stone. Christoh struggled, heart pounding in his head. His eyesight started to grow dim.

_No!_

Gathering all of the remaining strength he could muster from the severe lack of oxygen, Christoh raised one of his legs and kicked as hard as he could as the ribcage of his opponent. The General did not let go of Christoh's neck, but with a grunt of pain his fingers did slacken the smallest bit, just enough for a rush of air to surge past Christoh's lips and into his lungs with a wheeze. It wasn't enough to satisfy, but it did take some of the burn out of his chest. Christoh didn't have enough time to react after his tiny victory, for the meaty fingers wrapped around his throat only constricted tighter than before, the General's features turning into a snarl at Christoh's reluctance to die.

"It's not personal. I just can't have my brother meddling in my plans." spoke the General in the tongue of the empire they were currently in the forests. His voice was gruff and as smooth as knives.

Christoh choked on nothing, eyes bulging out of their sockets, tears leaking out of the corners. The beat of his heart was thready in his ears, trying valiantly to keep pumping blood despite the lack of oxygen to fuel it. Christoh willed it to keep going, keep beating. He couldn't die now, not after everything he has survived so far!

"I already took out the other messengers that were sent, so you're the last man I have to worry about. You made it farther than I thought, but you didn't even come close to the capital." The General's eyes were cold and emotionless.

The black in the corners of his vision started to steadily grow, swallowing most of his sight, the unaffected areas turning blurry. His lungs screamed, the ache in his upper body now much sharper and feeling not too much different from a dagger slowly sinking deeper into the cavity of his chest. Christoh could feel the moment that his windpipe gave out with a sickening  _snap!_ and how the General let go of his body.

He would not make it to the capital.

He would not make it in time to warn Kaiser Plisetsky or the man he was courting, Katsuki Yuuri.

He would not stop the war.

He would not get to see his wife, Sylvia, again or hear her voice, nor witness her tender smile.

The General would get his revenge.

He failed.

Christoh slumped against the ground. He closed his eyes as the darkness finally consumed his sight and his heart stopped, recalling the image of his wife in his last seconds of consciousness. And then Christoh Weber was no more.

* * *

Yuri smiled, slinging an arm around Yuuri's waist and pulling him closer so their sides bumped together. They were laying in the grass, basking in the warm sunlight as they digested their lunch. 

They had traveled all the way to the end of the palace gardens, right to the very edge. It was far enough that they couldn't be disturbed unless they wanted to be, which as a blessing, because no matter what they were doing, whenever they seemed to find time alone there was always  _something_ that came up that needed one o their attentions. It was annoying as hell and Yuri hated it, but he knew that that was the price to pay as a ruler. 

And even if he and Yuuri had this special place under a peach tree on the very edge of palace property, that didn't mean that he had to like it. 

"Hey, look," Yuuri said, forgetting the half-made flower crown in his hands momentarily in favor of pointing up to one of the clouds passing by. "That cloud looks like Potya."

Yuri followed the direction that Yuuri's finger was pointing at and snorted.

"It just looks like a cloud."

"No it doesn't. There's the head and the body....there's her tail...." Yuuri gestured to different parts of the cloud that supposedly resembled Yuri's cat with every body part he named. Yuri still couldn't see what the omega meant, but he did smirk at how adorable Yuuri was being.  _Look at him, all happy about some clouds._

They stayed out there for quite a while before eventually returning back inside, but before they left their picnic spot, Yuuri had made them both two matching flower crowns. Well, matching was a stretch. They were made out of the wildflowers that grew in clumps all around the edges of the gardens, so the flowers were multicolored and without pattern.

When they passed Otabek in the hallway on their way back to Yuuri's room, the older alpha raised an eyebrow, silently communicating several things at once to Yuri, who was more than accustomed to his silent words. Yuri rolled his eyes, flipped him the bird, and squeezed Yuuri's hand in his a little bit tighter. 

Right now, they were laying on the bed, Yuri curled around Yuuri and listening to the omega read his book out loud for Yuri's benefit, regardless of the fact that Yuri hadn't heard nor read the beginning, so he was aware of virtually nothing. It didn't matter. He was more than content relaxing with his nose pressed against Yuuri's delectable scent gland, Yuuri's free hand carded in his blond hair, soothing. Yuuri's words washed over him in waves, steady and constant. He started to let his eyes droop shut, exhaustion settling over his bones. It made sense; he didn't sleep well last night.

Yuri didn't realize that Yuuri had stopped reading and cast the book aside until both hands settled in his hair, massaging his scalp in time with each other.

"Yura," he asked, voice soft, "why are you so sleepy? Normally you don't start to tire out until a few hours after dinner, but it's midday? Are you feeling okay?"

"I didn't sleep well last night." Yuri yawned, his sleep-fogged mind induced by Yuuri's voice causing him to not think about how he shouldn't have told Yuuri that he was having trouble sleeping until after the words slipped past his lips. He cursed himself mentally as Yuuri tilted his head back so their gazes could meet. Yuuri's brow was creased slightly with worry, and Yuri wanted nothing more than to run the pads of his fingers over the tiny folds of skin. 

 _Get a hold of yourself, Plisetsky,_ Yuri berated internally. 

"Why not?"

Yuri wanted to scream. There was no way that he would lie to Yuuri; the omega was too precious for Yuri to even try and hurt in any way, shape, or form, which included false words. On the other hand, he didn't want Yuuri to worry about him. Yuri was _basically_ fine, he just kept thinking heavily about the war. It was Yuuri that grew up as a slave (and later a....no, Yuri couldn't say it) so if anyone should be concerned, it should be _Yuri_ , about  _Yuuri._

"Just some stuff. It's stupid; don't worry about it."

The crease got deeper and more pronounced, now a frown marring Yuuri's beautiful features too.

"Yuri, if something is keeping you up at night, it's not stupid."

"Well this it. And I'm fine, believe me."

"No Yuri, I don't think I do." 

Yuri stilled. In their entire relationship, Yuri was the one that had demanded answers and called out all of the bullshit. It was Yuuri that relied, tried to heal, and took comfort. But now here was Yuuri taking charge and shouldering the role that Yuri had previously adopted, just like the dances they shared the night Yuri had returned from war. 

"Yuri?"

"I...." Yuri opened his mouth and closed it a few times, not really sure what he wanted to say, nor how to say it. Yuri tore his eyes away from Yuuri's questioning ones and focused his attention on the unmarked scent gland on Yuuri's neck, inhaling deeply for the courage he needed.

"I've been....having....nightmares." he said quietly. 

"About?" Yuuri's voice wasn't demanding or prying, just layered with concern and genuine curiosity. 

"A-about....the war....and the p-people I...." Yuri's voice died, unable to finish. He shook his head against Yuuri's shoulder.

"Killed? Oh, Yura, I wish you told me sooner." Yuuri's voice was soft, but it didn't lessen the blow that they dealt.

Yuuri's arms were around him, squeezing and locked tightly around his much larger body. His hands rubbed up and down Yuri's back, and for a moment, he had to remark at the fact that this was usually how he had comforted Yuuri in his times of distress. His throat was tight and felt swollen, his mind both painfully numb and bursting at the same time. Was this how Yuuri felt with every one of his panic attacks?

It felt like Yuuri's embrace alone was keeping Yuri together at the moment. If he let go, Yuri would break.

"A cranky teenager once told me that the biggest lie he ever told was thinking that bottling up everything inside and dealing with it by himself. That the one thing he couldn't stand was watching me fall apart when I thought that no one was watching."

Yuuri's voice settled back over him, with the same magical properties as before. It was like honey, sweet and thick, and so so comforting. Yuri tried to settle his breathing by focusing on the words leaving Yuuri's mouth. He recognized them; they were his. He told them to Yuuri the night that Yuri had found Yuuri stuck in the throes of a nightmare.

"Yuri, I'm here for you. You helped me when I first came here, and I am more than willing to return the favor, and not just because you are courting me. Because you are my friend, and the best person I know."

 _Oh gods, I want to cry,_ Yuri thought, not daring to open his mouth or move away from Yuuri's arms. 

"What you did was something that couldn't be helped. If it wasn't for the war, you never would have killed anybody, so that hardly means that you are a bad person. What you did was survive."

"Yuuri do you know how many other people  _didn't_ survive? And not even just on the barbarian's side, but  _my own men too._ " Yuri's voice shook.

"No, I don't. But you can't blame yourself for that; it's not your fault, I promise."

Yuri didn't say anything, though he wanted to. How could Yuuri be so confident that Yuri was not to be blamed? If he had ended the war, if he had tried harder to improve diplomatic relations, there would be so many more people that would have lived. Would have walked away.

Yuuri was speaking. What was he saying?

"-and then he was gone. I spent months after you saved me blaming myself for being there. I would think about so many if's: 'if I hadn't been so weak', 'if he had just left me'. They all consumed me and I felt so guilty that I had even survived. It took me a while to come to terms that Phichit carrying me would have happened regardless of our circumstances. It took me even more time to forgive myself. Yuri, I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's okay that you feel like this, just come to me so I can help you." Yuuri put a hand on Yuri's cheek, stroking it. "Guilt is too heavy to bear alone."

Yuri looked up from the shoulder he was burying his head into. He opened his mouth again to say something, but ended up closing it soon enough because he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. Forget that, what was he even  _feeling?_

Yuuri leaned down, fitting their lips together in a proper, slow kiss, the sensation wiping away all of Yuri's jumbled thoughts like magic.

_Oh._

When they pulled away, a spark was left behind, and Yuri could see it when he gazed into those deep brown eyes; a shared connection, another star in their sky.

"You look tired, Yura. Sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up."

"Yuuri, later I have to-"

"Shhh," he responded, putting a finger to Yuri's lips, a gentle smile on his face. "I know, Yuri. I'll wake you up in time."

"But I-"

"No buts.  _Sleep,_ Yura. I'll fight off the bad dreams." Yuuri started to massage Yuri's scalp, slowly and tenderly.

Yuri couldn't help but snort and roll his eyes.

"Yeah, right."

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

"You doubt me? Fine, I accept the challenge. I bet you that if you sleep right here, right now, you won't have a single nightmare."

"Alright. What do I get if I win?" His eyes were starting to feel heavy and Yuri was sleepily trying to curse life. He didn't want to close his eyes now!

Yuuri smirked, a devilish expression playing out on his face. "You'll see."

Yuuri must have said something else, but Yuri didn't know because his body was relaxing and his eyelids falling shut, unwillingly surrendering himself to slumber.

* * *

 

**Four days later...**

 

The General surveyed the palace in front of him, critical eyes scanning every wall, window, turret, and guard. His mind was already thinking of a dozen ways to scale and concur the problem at hand. There was no need for the General to be assessing the large castle in front of him for he had already formed a water-tight plan and shared it with his gathered men, but never let it be said that he was not thorough. 

His gaze traveled to the window that he knew would be holding the young emperor's courting mate: Katsuki Yuuri. 

The General grinned, though anyone looking would have cringed at such a hostile and unmerciful smile. He knew that name. It belonged to the omega whore that he had had in his camp, before Plisetsky had ruined everything and killed his men. 

_Rewards come to those that wait._

Keeping his stance low, the General made his way back into the dense forests, in the direction of the camp he and his newly-acquired men founded. There was not much use in the risk of being caught, and the guards would patrol right where he had been standing in about--the General looked up at the position of the moon and stars to gauge the time--ten minutes or so. 

He had been planning this for ages now, really ever since he and his men had been ambushed by the upstart emperor and his band of do-gooders. It had been difficult to say the least to find information on the emperor and anything about his private life through any of the locals that he or the men that his brother lent him encountered, but their efforts had yielded fruit in the end.

As it turned out, Plisetsky had taken his own former slave to court.

The General may not have understood why--Katsuki was nothing, and surely the young blond could do better--but it did not matter. It only made his plans sweeter in the end. 

Was there a high probability that he would die, in the end?

Yes. Certainly.

But, there was an even higher chance of him fulfilling his mission: ripping the joy out of the boy who decided to kill his men before killing him. 

The General had arrived back at his camp site by now, the men he had gathered not sparing him more than a glance. They were his own country men, some of the few sensible ones that believed that the peace was wrong and these people that they had been fighting deserved more anguish. They were crooks and low-lifes, cast out from society and left to simmer in their hate. They may have led wrong lives, but at least they were able to distinguish what was right from absurd, unlike the rest of their country. 

Poor replacements for his former party, but those men had been the best of the best, and the General had seen them as more than his own brother. 

The General sat in his tent, nearly ready to sleep. Tomorrow would be it. Tomorrow would be the day that he finally took revenge for the spilled blood of his comrades, dealing a blow that was sure to be felt across the entire empire.

_Rest now, Plisetsky. Tomorrow I am coming for you, and you will learn the price of taking away my men._

The General smiled, thinking of the carnage he would unleash.

_I hope you remember the feeling of today, the happiness you felt, the warmth in your arms, because if you survive, nothing in your life will ever be the same._

* * *

Yuuri snuggled closer to Yuri, trying to get comfortable. It was late enough that the sun had long set and his Yuri had fallen asleep ages ago, breathing deeply and peacefully. They were sleeping in Yuuri's own room, and had been ever since Yuri had confessed that he was experiencing trouble falling and staying asleep at night. So far, there had been only one occasion that Yuuri's presence hadn't been able to sooth Yuri's consciousness. 

He huffed, staring up at the ceiling. Yuuri wasn't sure why  _he_ all of the sudden couldn't manage to grasp slumber, but it was annoying him greatly. All day he had been a little on edge, and he couldn't figure out why. Yuuri had dubbed it to his lingering paranoia, but the feeling only grew at the night drew darker. It felt like his skin was crawling, like there was a target on his back, and there was no explanation to it all. 

Yuuri tried to lessen his squirming, but out of fear for him wakening Yuri, Yuuri donned a loose shirt, opening the balcony doors and walking outside to star gaze. It had been one of his favorite things to do with Phichit, and while Yuuri didn't continue the tradition nightly, there was a sort of routine to his private sessions. 

He spotted the first few major constellations that were always in the sky, then moving on to the more challenging ones that only an experienced eye could distinguish from the rest of the dense blanket of stars across the night sky. Yuuri wasn't sure how long he spent looking up at the bright lights, but when his neck started to ache and eyes begin to feel heavy with an new exhaustion, Yuuri turned, shivering as the breeze caused his skin to erupt in goose-flesh. He yawned, covering his mouth with his hand-

Yuuri froze, the blood in his veins seemingly stopping as quickly as his body. He shook, but this time it wasn't from the cold. Yuuri turned slowly, eyes wide and terrified, finally realizing the one thing wrong with the sight before him.

The guards that patrolled the walls and towers all had lit fires in the brazers. When a shift in the guards was conducted, it was one at a time, and the fire belonging to the changing position was dimmed down to a bed of hot coals until the new guard was firmly stationed, which then the blaze would be reignited. 

They were out. Every. Single. Fire. 

And suddenly, Yuuri felt very exposed. 

He ran back into his room, heart in his throat as he closed the balcony doors, sprinting to the bed and grasping Yuri's shoulders with both of his shaking hands. He didn't take much care to wake up the blond, but Yuuri was too scared to even think about the consequences of him taking the time to lovingly pull Yuri from slumber like he normally did.

Yuri woke with a shout and due to reflexes honed from the war and constant vigil, surged forward, his own hands grasping Yuuri tightly until the young emperor realized who he was prepared to hurt in practiced self-defense. 

"Yuuri?" Yuri took in the slight shaking of Yuuri's body, his blood-drained complexion, and trembling lip. "Wha-"

"The lights are out!" Yuuri cried, not bothering to wait for the alpha to finish his question. "All of the guard lights are out!"

Yuri sprang out of bed, a disbelieving look on his face as he burst through the balcony doors. On any other occasion, Yuuri would have followed, but not now. Not when he seemed to be rooted to where he stood. Yuri's pale skin and hair glowed in the moonlight as he surveyed the lack of fires that were supposed to be burning throughout the night, regardless of conditions. Yuri turned back, a desperate look in his eyes as he started forward.

"Yuuri I need yo-"

Yuri shouted in surprise as an arrow rained down, grazing his left arm and drawing blood before thunking into one of the balcony doors. If it had been Yuuri standing there, he would have looked up at the direction of the arrow, stupidly trying to make out where it came from. Yuri, however, did the smart thing, crashing through the doorway and into the room without further injury, just narrowly escaping the three other arrows that buried themselves right where the alpha had been standing. 

Yuri wasted no time, unsheathing his sword and grabbing Yuuri's hand, pulling him along.

"Come on! We have to sound the alarm! We're under attack!"

Together, they ran out of Yuuri's chambers, dashing down the hallways. It was then that Yuuri became aware that he could smell smoke, and the scent was only growing. Yuri seemed to notice it too. Were the floors getting hotter?

"They're trying to force us out of the palace, but I don't know where they started the fire. Yuuri I think-"

Yuuri didn't know what Yuri said next, because the next thing that he knew he was crashing through the floor with the loud sound of snapping wood, Yuri's cry of surprise fading in his ears as all of the sudden flames consumed his vision. He slammed down onto the floor of the burning room, the heavily weakened wood, creaking loudly twice over the roaring of the flames before it gave out, sending Yuuri falling once again, his body now battered and bruised. Yuuri groaned on the floor, not two levels below Yuri. 

He tried to stand and nearly fell on his face. Yuuri grit his teeth and stood, shouldering the door open to try and escape the tongue of flame dancing too close to his skin. Thankfully, this new room was not nearly ablaze. Yuuri took in his surroundings. He was in one of the sitting rooms, but he wasn't alone. 

It took Yuuri no time to recognize the man in front of him

The General.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2 of anguish coming soon!


	15. Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cracks fingers* It's time to break hearts
> 
> ok no but seriously, I always write my notes after the chapter and I'm crYING, so please, read this with a box of tissues nearby. Supernova9817, please do not read this near a table, for I fear that if you do it will be flipped.
> 
> I'm so sorry

At first, they didn't notice him.

Yuuri wondered how, but then he realized that two floors below where he was before the sound of snapping wood and roaring flames were much more prevalent, consuming most other sound. It was likely that they had heard his impact with the floor and dismissed it as unimportant as the rest of the noises being brought to light with the violence and terror that had consumed the house. 

But as Yuuri winced, the intense pain finally setting in, he let out a soft cry as he struggled to his feet because fuck, broken ribs hurt like hell. He couldn't tell the extent of his injuries, but then again, he had no time because his gasp of pain was incredibly human and jarring to the sounds of destruction that had been already dismissed as white noise. The sound of splintering wood could be ignored, but something that was undoubtedly from another human being? No, that shouldn't be here. 

The General and the two burly men that were with him whirled around, weapons raised, eyes locking instantly onto Yuuri, and the omega couldn't help but curse at his misfortune. The General smiled.

"Hello, whore." They started forward, and with every stride the three men took, Yuuri shuffled two back with a hand pressed to his side, terror enveloping him at the encounter of his former rapist. "Change of plans; we don't have to go and try to track him down in his burning palace because he was nice enough to come to us."

There was a part of Yuuri that wanted to freeze. It was the same part of him that took over every moment--waking and not--of his life when he was first rescued. It was the part of him that always wanted to do nothing but lie down and accept what ever hell he managed to come across.

But he wasn't like that anymore. He knew now that that approach would do nothing more than hurt him ten times more than necessary. He deserved to live. He wanted to live. To see out the rest of his life. 

He was not going to die today. 

The half of a second that it took Yuuri to evaluate his flashing thoughts seemed like an eternity, but then he snapped to attention, turned, and ran, ignoring how his injured ribs screamed in protest. Footsteps raced behind him. Yuuri slammed open the doors leading out, dashing as fast as he could. The hallway was in flames, the tongues of orange dancing over the walls. Yuuri ignored it. He didn't have the time to dwell on the fact that the place he had called home for over a year now was turning to ash and smoke. 

He had two advantages. One, he was small. Yuuri could hide in places that were too tight of a fit for the animal-like-built men following him. Two, he knew his way around. This was Yuuri's home; he knew everything about it. 

Yuuri ducked past a fallen beam of wood that was leaning diagonally across the hallway, creating a small opening that Yuuri could just about squeeze through. Gasping for breath in the sooty air, the omega dashed forward, taking a left after a moment of brief uncertainty. Because of his incident of falling through the ceiling, Yuuri's internal compass was a little off kilter, but he was certain now that he knew where he was. Viktor's room was down this hallway.

He counted the doors as he ran. Viktor's was the sixth on the right. One....two....three....four....five....there! Yuuri burst through the double doors, shouting as he ran through the quarters that belonged to his friend and fellow omega. 

"Viktor! Viktor! Are you here? Viktor!"

Yuuri nearly cried when he searched through all of the rooms and came up empty. 

No, no time for crying. You can do this. You just have to get out. 

Backtracking, Yuuri dashed out through the doors again and into the hallway, looking back and forth to see if he was being pursued. So far, it didn't look like it. 

If I were Viktor, where would I be?

He decided to go out on a whim and head for Chris' room. Yuri had caught the two making out where they thought that no one could see them on multiple occasions, so it wouldn't be too much of a shot in the dark, right? Besides, even if every fiber of Yuuri's being was set on finding Yuri again, Chris' room was much closer, and right now, he needed the physical backup a hell of a lot more than the emotional kind. Had he been taking combat lessons from Chris and Viktor? Yes. Would he stand a chance if he took up a sword against the men trying to get to him? No. Not at all. 

Right now his best bet was to run and find someone that could handle the skill level that the barbarians possessed, and there was only so much running he could do, especially with how every step sent stabs of pain through his chest, sharp enough to nearly bring tears. 

Yuuri took another corner, and another, weaving his way around the hallways in the sneakiest way he knew how, avoiding all of the main passageways. Those the barbarians would take. 

This hallway was particularly inflamed, the walls saturated with glowing fire so fierce, that the smoke hung thick and low in the air, causing Yuuri to instantly erupt into a coughing fit, tears coming to his eyes. The crackling of wood consumed his hearing. The ash seemed to clog his throat. Gods, why did I ever come down here?

Yuuri tripped, letting out a yelp of surprise as he started to fall, the yelp turning into a shout as he unsuccessfully caught his descent downwards, slamming into the floor. Yuuri knew that this was no time to be laying face-down on the floor, groaning, when the corridor you were in was burning around you, barbarians chasing after you so they could kill you, and the smoke making it just that much harder to inhale and suck in oxygen but rising to his feet seemed impossible. He wanted to get up and escape the burning clutches of the hallway, but it was as if his body decided to give up. 

Two pairs of strong hands grabbed at his body, yanking him to his feet and manhandling him quickly out of the burning hallway and around a corner where there was air ten times fresher. Yuuri gasped at the sudden lack of soot he was breathing in, staggering away from the owners of the hands who grabbed him, rubbing his eyes and trying to cleanse them of the ash blocking his vision and making it blurry. The hands were on him again, steadying him. This time they were much gentler, and not nearly as urgent. 

"Easy, little one. You're alright." Chris' familiar deep rumble washed over Yuuri and the omega nearly cried because of it. In fact, his eyes did water, but it was involuntary and Yuuri understood it as his body's way of clearing the soot from his sight. Soft hands brushed away the tears and Yuuri instinctively recognized them as Viktor's gentle touches, feeling happiness settle deep in his bones despite it all. Now all he needed was Yuri and Otabek, and he could stop worrying. 

When Yuuri could see clearly again, the first thing that they did was hug. It wasn't their normal throw-an-arm-around-each-other kind of hug, no, it was a full on, both armed, bear hug that left Yuuri wincing from the pain his ribs were emitting, but he still didn't pull away until it became absolutely unbearable. Yuuri himself was overly relieved, but from the expressions of his friends, they were too.

"I'm so glad that we found you, Yuuri. Do you know where Yuri is?" Viktor asked. Yuuri shook his head and explained how he ended up down here, emphasizing the fact that he had several blood-thirsty barbarians following him. It didn't take much for Viktor and Chris to understand just how severe the situation really was. 

"Alright, we'll see if we can find Yuri on our way out, but right now we need to leave. This place is burning down around us and you need to get somewhere safe where the General can't find you." 

Viktor grabbed his hand, brandishing a dagger from a sheath Yuuri had failed to notice. Chris, however, already had his personal sword in hand, the blade reflecting the orange light of the flames menacingly. The alpha led the way, setting a fast pace that had Yuuri wishing once again that he had not suffered that fall through the floor. 

They were able to make it across to the other wing of the castle without running into another soul, but their anonymity did not last long. Climbing down the stairs to reach the lower levels of the palace an arrow sailed in front of Viktor's face, causing a shallow line of blood to spring up and start to drip down his cheek; Yuuri's pursuers had found him once again. This time though, their numbers had grown into six men, the General not included. 

The barbarians rushed forward and in response Chris pushed both Viktor and Yuuri behind him before lunging out at the nearest enemy with a cry of rage, killing the man instantly with the quick darts of his blade. 

"Go!" he shouted, engaging and dispatching another barbarian. Yuuri and Viktor froze for a moment, watching as the other barbarians backed away, obviously trying for another strategy. Yuuri didn't blame them; Chris was the best swordsman that Yuuri had even had the pleasure to meet. 

Though he would be lying if he didn't say that he gulped out of fear for his friend when the General stepped forward, holding his massive broadsword with both hands, an unspoken challenge ringing out for all to hear. It was a challenge that Chris took without abandon, launching into a lightning fast series of parries and jabs, the two blades locked in combat dancing to a deadly tune. 

"Get out of here!" Chris shouted over the roar of the flames, and this time Viktor grabbed Yuuri's hand, sprinting down the steps with the other omega in tow.

Yuuri tried to ignore the sting of tears in his eyes, but a deep sense of powerlessness had settled over his bones, suffocating him. It hurt deeply to continue putting one foot in front of the other in the opposite direction of Chris. 

There was a huge crash sounding from the floor above them, followed by a familiar shout of pain and the clattering of a sword to the floor. Viktor stopped so abruptly that Yuuri nearly crashed into him.

"Viktor?"

Viktor didn't answer at first. All he did was stare at the steps they had just cleared before letting go of Yuuri's hand.

"Wait a minute Viktor what-"

"Yuuri I  _ can't  _ leave him." Viktor said, finally tearing his eyes away and focusing them somewhere in the direction the Yuuri stood. "You have to--you  _ must-- _ understand what I mean. If that were Yuri up there, would you be able to leave him if you knew that you could help?"

"No, but Chris said-"

"I know what Chris said but I can't let that lovable idiot be a martyr now. Yuuri listen to me," Viktor took Yuuri's hands in his own, squeezing them tightly. "Continue down this hallway until you get to the end and take a left, then a sharp right. It'll take you to the exit to the left courtyard, where the stables are. I know you know how to ride so take a horse and a soldier and have them direct you to my father's castle. Once you are there ask for the Lord of the castle and give him this." Viktor pressed a small item into Yuuri's palm, but the omega didn't dare cease his gaze into those blue orbs. "He will know it is from me and give you food and board for as long as you need. I will find my way there if…." Viktor trailed off, and if Yuuri wasn't crying before, now he was with what his closest friend was implying. 

"No, Viktor I-"

"Yuuri, sweet Yuuri please,  _ please  _ don't make this harder than it has to be. Now go. Run!" 

Yuuri stumbled backwards, not bothering to wipe the tears from his eyes as Viktor turned and dashed back up the stairs with one last melancholy smile.

"No…." Yuuri whispered. 

He was alone. He was going to die. 

_ Stop that,  _ Yuuri thought, shaking himself out of that mindset to the best of his ability. He would not die. Chris would not die. Viktor would not die. Yuri-

_ Oh gods Yuri,  _ a lump formed in the omega's throat at the thought of his blond alpha. 

No. He refused to even entertain those thoughts. 

Viktor had told him to run, so that is what he would do. 

Yuuri turned away from the stairs despite how it physically pained him to do so and picked up the sword from a fallen guard. Yuuri wanted to gag from the sight of the young man struck down, but he needed a weapon, no matter how uncomfortable he felt grasping the pommel that belonged to someone else. 

The hallway was empty the entire time that Yuuri traveled down it, and the fire seemed to not have reached the first level yet, for he came across no flames and just the barest tinge of smoke. The corridor came to an end right before his eyes and Yuuri started on the left pathway, when a bloody arrow dripping red thunked into the wall, centimeters from his head. Yuuri gasped and didn't even waste time turning around to see his pursuers, desperately trying to stop the feelings of despair and hopelessness from taking over his mind.

He clung to the odds that he was not being chased by the General or any of the six men that he had mustered to find and kill Yuuri. That somewhere Viktor and Chris were still fighting because fighting meant that they were alive.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and Yuuri tried to press on, but the burning in his chest only grew and the amount of air he seemed to take in shrunk. 

Yuuri nearly ran into the wall trying to turn right so abruptly, crying out in surprise and terror when he felt fingers just barely brush up against the collar of his shirt. 

No no no no no no n-

Yuuri let out a strangled sound as he was yanked backwards and into a broad chest that he knew the feeling of well. Disgustingly well. All of the fantasies that Yuuri harbored about Chris and Viktor alive somewhere seemed to shatter into a million pieces as the sickening realization of who he was faced against yet again came into light. 

The General. 

There had once upon a time been a part of Yuuri that would have just submitted and let his former tormentor kill him as he pleased, but Yuuri was not that person anymore. His craving for death to reap his soul had long been replaced by an intense desire to  _ live,  _ a burning inferno in his body that refused to go out. 

_ I am done being your slave! _

With a war cry of his own Yuuri pivoted and slammed his elbow into the cheekbone of the General, causing the man to grunt in pain and loosen his hold of Yuuri's shirt just enough for the omega to rip it out of his hands and back away a few feet. Yuuri raised his sword. He just had to last until someone found him. He didn't have to beat the General, he just had to make time.

Yuuri stroked the fire within, pinning down his want to see tomorrow, to see the sunrise even just once more and channeled it all into an airtight rage inside of him directed towards the only barbarian in sight.

This was the man that took away his family and burned his village.

This was the man that took away Yuuri's innocence and childhood.

This was the man who was responsible for killing hundreds and enslaving he and Phichit. 

This was the man that took away Yuuri's desire to live.

This was the man that killed Yuri's parents.

The General smiled his usual crocodile grin before twirling his sword. 

"What do you think you're doing, whore? Do I need to remind you who you belong to?"

Yuuri only snarled. 

The fake smile melted off of the General's face.

"Fine. I guess my plans have changed. I figure your little  _ emperor  _ would still be just as distraught to find his boy toy stabbed to death on the floor of his palace instead of witnessing the spectacle himself."

In a deadly arch, the General's broadsword swung down, and to the surprise of the both of them, Yuuri was able to deflect the lazy strike off to the side. But it was after that that Yuuri realized just how much he was fighting for his life. The General was stronger, faster, and better trained, and now he had a reason to fight to his potential--his former slave had picked up swordplay and thought he could defend himself.

With every crash of their blades, a memory flashed through Yuuri's thoughts.

_ Waking up to Chris' smiling face and gentle tone the first time Yuuri had arrived, and the feeling of safety that ensued. _

Yuuri deflected a pary.

_ He and Viktor at the market, the older omega's laugh ringing out over the idle chatter of the crowd around them. _

The General struck downwards, the impact of their blades sending darts of pain down Yuuri's arm, making his grip slip.

_ He and Yuri in the garden that one sunset, the air smelling of roses, their fingers intertwined and the words "for good luck" dancing on their tongues.  _

A particularly vicious thrust from the General send Yuuri sprawling, his sword skidding out of his hands. Yuuri lunged for it, the fire in his soul so bright it hurt. 

_ Dancing, the memory blurred and the emotions fuzzy, but the sight of Yuri smiling and laughing, his green eyes glittering in the light of the ballroom as clear as crystal. He wanted to make Yuri look like that every day. _

A boot kicked into his side and Yuuri screamed from the intense pain of his broken ribs being further injured. Weakly, he still reached outwards, desperate to try and close his fingers around the leather grip of the sword.

_ Waking up to Yuri smiling down at him, leaning in to softly press their lips together, the gesture filled with unspoken love. _

The General grinned down at Yuuri, his eyes full of madness and the lust for a revenge not needed. He raised his sword.

_ Yuri's green eyes bright, "I love you"s being pressed into Yuuri's lips. _

And struck down. 

Yuuri's mouth flew open, and he thought that a gasp of surprise and pain was supposed to fly out, but nothing came, only the feeling of his flesh ripping and hot blood pouring out of a wound inflicted so effortlessly onto his body. It seemed so unfair that an action so easy to perform could leave him gasping for breath on the floor, cold metal buried deep into his gut. Yuuri felt the token Viktor had given him clatter to the floor.

"That was for your emperor killing my men and turning my country into a laughing stock. This is my revenge. To break his heart before dispatching of him forever."

Was the General saying something? Yuuri didn't know, the ringing in his ears was too loud, the numbness flowing over his body like honey too suffocating. He looked up and met the eyes of his murderer, not sure what he was looking for but the desire for it to be found intense. 

And the General reached down, grabbing the handle of his weapon impaling Yuuri with one hand, his foot bracing itself on top of Yuuri's hips to keep him from moving. The General yanked and Yuuri let out a scream as the pain pierced through the numbness consuming his body, the intense rush of  _ feeling  _ overwhelming him. 

And with one last insult that fell on deaf ears, the General turned and walked away.

* * *

 

Yuuri was alone. 

He wasn't sure for how long he was without company, but a slowly building light off to the left of his black-rimmed vision stole his attention. Yuuri craned his neck. Was it the fire, finally consuming the building?

Yuuri's eyes fell onto the open window, it's glass smashed but showing the sun, just beginning to rise, reds and pinks painting the sky, lightening it. 

Yuuri laughed weakly, the sight stroking the burning coals that the fire inside of him had degraded to. He had done it. He had survived another day.

He tried not to think about how it was most likely going to be his last.

Yuuri opened his eyes, too tired to find the strength to be startled at the sight of a translucent Phichit crouching over him. The Thai man just smiled, pearl-like tears in his eyes as he reached forward and cupped Yuuri's cheek, a tingling feeling springing up at the touch.

He tried to speak, but no words came forth to express the confusion that Yuuri felt.

"Hang on, Yuuri. Help will be here soon."

Phichit stood, taking a step back, the smile on his face just as warm as Yuuri remembered despite how remorseful it looked.

Yuuri wanted to cry and he did, tears as weak as him falling from his lashes. 

"P-Phichit?"

"No, Yuuri. It's not your time yet."

Yuuri didn't know if it was the loss of blood, some ethereal visit, or that his mind really was creating mirages of his dead best friend, but the whole world dimmed and blackened until there was nothing. 

Yuuri was tired, he could tell. It was an exhaustion that took over every thought, every inch of his body, but the nearly-dead bed of coals that represented his desire to live supplied him with the mental image of Yuri smiling down at him. 

No, he couldn't leave just yet.

* * *

 

There were arms circling his body, and the sound of sobs just about reached his ears. Was it raining? Was that why his face felt wet?

No, no it was Yuri, Yuri was holding him and crying, his tears falling onto Yuuri's cheeks, but why? Why was he crying? Oh yeah, that was right, Yuuri was dying.

Huh, the word didn't seem so big now, so heavy. Maybe because now it was not just a thought, but soon a reality.

Shaking fingers brushed away a strand of hair that Yuuri apparently had in his eyes, and the omega tried to force open his eyelids, but to no avail. When his attempts at sight didn't work, Yuuri forced the tiny grains of his remaining strength to open his mouth and whisper one last devotion of love to fall on his sweet Yuri's ears, but once again, his body betrayed him.

_ I'm sorry, Yuri,  _ Yuuri thought,  _ I'm so sorry. _

Yuri's lips were pressing into his own and Yuuri tried to kiss back, tried to scream how much he loved this alpha that had saved his life in more than one way and occasion, but Yuuri was floating and couldn't reach, couldn't find his way to his lover. 

_ I love you, Yuri, don't forget that. _

The blackness was deafening and absolute, but Yuuri pushed it all away one last time so he could just grasp the feeling of Yuri holding him. Was he content with leaving? No, but he couldn't stay, not when the lead in his soul was pushing him away from the world of those that lived and towards somewhere else, somewhere where he would spend the rest of his eternity. His reality was falling apart and he couldn't stop it.

Would his family be there? Would he be able to find Phichit?

Yuuri didn't know, but he clutched the last fleeting feelings of security and love radiating from Yuri's presence, burning it into his soul to keep him from forgetting and….

….Yuuri exhaled, and let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
>  
> 
> ok just kidding I wouldn't do that there are still going to be more after this, but for now, I need to go and cry my eyes out.
> 
> (not edited)


	16. Revenge Is Best Served With Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeyyyy~  
> I feel like you guys are done with my not updating regularly shit, but life is what I can describe perfectly in one word: hell. Anyways, I'm sorry, this didn't mean to take too long, but life got in the way. I'm going to be on vacation two weeks from now, and I am going to try my hardest to put in another chapter before I go, regardless of my hectic schedule rn. Well. I hope you guys like this one, it's also going to be pretty emotional. I may or may not have cried.  
> I have created the death of a character I'm so sorry he didn't deserve it someone should take away my ability to write why can't I write things that are happy T.T

Yuri had thought that he had been angry before when he caught the sight of the barbarians shooting arrows at him and terrifying his Yuuri. He had thought that he had been angry when the fact that the intruders had set fire to his palace became known with Yuuri falling through the flame-weakened floor. He had certainly thought that he had been angry when he saw the barbarians attacking Otabek and when he witnessed the General cut down his cousin Viktor and Chris from across the hallway.

But no. That may have been anger, but it was nothing compared to what he felt now, clutching Viktor's bloody hand, Otabek right next to him. 

Yuri was enraged.

How  _dare_ they hurt his cousin, his  _family._ Hell, Yuri may not have that many people in his life that he would consider to be a member of his family but Viktor was one of them, regardless of the fact that Yuri wold deny it with his dying breath.

"You stupid asshole you can't die one me! Do you hear me Viktor? I don't care if you're wounded you can't fucking die!" Yuri yelled, lacking sincerity, squeezing the silver-haired man's hand so tight that it left his knuckles white and blotchy. Viktor grinned, but the smile melted off almost instantly with a wince of pain and a lung-aching cough that flecked little dots of red along his lips. 

"Yura, you know life and death doesn't work that way. You can't just will me not to die."

"Fucking watch me old man!" Yuri retorted, though the power that Yuri imagined he had wasn't there. He knew that no matter what he said, he couldn't stop Viktor from dying. "You're not dying. Period. End of discussion."

"Yuri, I can't just-"

"YES YOU CAN!" Yuri practically screamed, tears starting to spring up. His voice broke at the end, and a lump formed in his throat. "You promised me that you wouldn't leave me until I didn't need you anymore when my parents were murdered, but," Yuri laughed, the sound broken and cynical, "newsflash, I still need you." 

There. He said it. Four words, words that he only said in his head, never out loud, too scared of commitment and attaching himself to someone else after the loss of his parents. Because in the end, that was the lesson that his parents ended up teaching him. That no amount of love you have for someone will stop them from going away, from leaving, from  _dying,_ and that the suffering never stops. Oh, you think you got over last week's heartbreak? Well, here's life to throw you an even bigger disappointment, like everyone's own personal curse.

Damn, he got it right all those years ago when he was stuck in that "slump", as Otabek called it. 

Yuri turned his attention back to Viktor, where it really mattered at the moment. The man was smiling.  _That's it, he's officially crazy. Who the hell smiles while they're dying?_

The question accidentally slipped past Yuri's lips without him noticing. 

"Well I guess I do. But there is no use mourning myself before I'm really dead, is there little Yura? If I am going to die, then I'll die hoping that I bought Yuuri enough time to escape, and that I'll go honorably and happy. I can't say I've lived a full life, but a content one."

"Wait, slow down old man you're not making any sense. What do you mean 'bought Yuuri enough time to escape'? I'm right here and most of the guards were able to cut down the barbarians, so I don't need to escape; I'm fine."

Viktor waved a hand dismissively, and his blue eyes lost a little bit of their clarity. By now, the doctors had found them and were already administering care to a hopefully-just-unconscious Chris, and trying to get to Viktor, but Yuri shooed them back.

"Not you, the other Yuri." Viktor lowered his tone. "The one you  _fancy._ " 

Viktor was acting more than a little drunk for the sheer amount of blood he lost due to his extensive wounds was astounding, but the light tone of voice the silver-haired man adopted did nothing to sooth the ice that had suddenly taken over Yuri's heart. Urgency suddenly grasped him in a choke-hold, and with a little bit of shaking and lots of prompting and direct questions, a half-passed out Viktor told the story of how they found Yuuri and their desperate attempt to escape. 

Yuri's mind was reeling as Otabek dragged him away from his cousin's body so the doctor's could try and save him. He wanted to hate Viktor for not staying with Yuuri and seeing that he was safe himself, he really did, but as he gazed down at the blood soaking through the floorboards and the increased paleness of Viktor's skin, he knew he couldn't. If the situations were reversed and Yuuri was Chris, Viktor Yuuri and Yuri himself in Viktor's shoes, he wouldn't have hesitated on returning to the one he loved.

But he couldn't just stand here and think about it.

Springing into action, Yuri drew his sword and dashed down the steps, not waiting for Otabek's calls to stop and hold on for reinforcements because he couldn't take on the General himself, the pleads of Yuri's best friend only fueling his mad dash for if Yuri couldn't bring down the beast of a man, gods knew that Yuuri couldn't.

Yuri took the route that Viktor described to Yuuri, noting the smell of smoke grow dimmer and the random patch of ashes less casual. He turned left, seeing an arrow sunk deep into the wall, dried red coating the shaft. Yuri's legs pumped him farther faster, ignoring the growing burning in his lungs. He was straining his body, sprinting so fast but he didn't care in the least. This was it, the last corner, Yuri swung right--

\--and screamed. 

Yuuri's broken body lay twisted on the ground, his head turned toward the broken window, face washed in the weak light of a new sun. His shirt was soaked in red, the original color lost to the deep crimson that seemed to take over everything until there was nothing left. Only blood. Too much. 

Yuri stumbled over to the body, numbly taking in the rest of Yuuri's condition. Bruises were littered everywhere on his arms and legs, including a nasty-looking one on his left temple, and Yuri could only assume that most of the black-and-blue flowers blossoming on Yuuri's skin were from his fall through the floors. Soot and ash were smeared on his clothing and body haphazardly and Yuri noticed how the hairs of his arms and eyebrows were singed. Cuts--both large and minuscule--were nearly as plentiful as the bruises. 

With shaking arms and tears clouding his vision, Yuri cradled Yuuri close, pulling his lover onto his lap. Yuuri's neck rolled, falling limply back, eyes open and staring blankly back at nothing. And then Yuri was sobbing for the first time since his parents were alive, his cries loud and ugly, full of pain. His tears dripping down onto Yuuri's cheeks.

And still, there was no response of his beloved other than the shallowest of breaths that Yuri wasn't sure if they were in fact real or not. 

An enormous, gaping hole ripped itself in his chest, and Yuri wanted nothing more than to rip out his heart in order to stop  _feeling._ It was fire, burning up in his veins and setting his lungs ablaze so that drawing breath was impossible, leaving Yuri to hiccup through his sobs and screams of anguish sharp enough to kill. 

It was his parents all over again, dying, nothing he could possibly do. It was hopeless.

A memory of Yuuri, crying, begging Yuuri to stay formed in his thoughts.  _Don't leave, please,_ were his exact words.

"I'm n-not lea-le-leaving, Yuuri. I p-promise." Yuri managed to grind out in between desperate inhales for oxygen and soul-shaking sobs. He brushed a strand of ebony hair off of Yuuri's face, one that would have been blocking the man's view a little if he had been looking.

A new sob tore through Yuri and then he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but lean down and smash his lips against Yuuri's, hiccuping and sobbing as he moved his mouth against Yuuri's soft and still-warm one.  _No,_ Yuri scolded himself,  _I won't think of Yuuri as dead....he's still breathing....right?_

Yuuri would kiss him back. He would gasp for breath and blink his eyes, the dimness in them banished by the light that not-to-long-ago shone in them. Yuuri would be fine because he would kiss back. Yuri moved his lips, tasting the iron in the blood that had speckled Yuuri's.

Something in Yuri's chest broke and shattered into pieces so small and sharp that they sliced his insides and left a sob tearing out from his throat. Yuuri wasn't kissing back. He wasn't gasping for breath. Yuri leaned back, feeling like he was about ready to pass out from the pain of it all, and looked into Yuuri's caramel-brown eyes, looking desperately for the light that had been there last night, when Yuuri had hastily woken him to share his discovery of their attack. Nothing. Nothing, there was nothing. 

The hand of his best friend was on his shoulder, but Yuri didn't even register the contact. Was that a flutter of an eyelid or wishful thinking? Yuri almost didn't want to know. Otabek was talking, his deep voice barely making its was past the cotton in Yuri's ears. 

He looked so peaceful, if Yuri looked past the blood drenching his entire being. So serene, so gentle, just like always. So undeserving of this fate of laying helpless in the arms of Yuri, just the faintest inhale and exhale making their way past his unusually pale lips.

More people came, and now Otabek was gently shaking Yuri's shoulder, crouched down and on Yuri's eye level. Yuri still cried.

"You need to let him go, Yura. Listen, Mila's here with a few more doctors and they want to try and help him, okay? Yura?"

Yuri didn't respond, because he wasn't really listening. He was focused on the weight in his arms, the person he loved. And when he brushed his fingers over Yuuri's cheek again, he nearly started screaming again.

"He's no breathing! Otabek h-he's NOT BREATHING!" 

Otabek pulled Yuuri's limp body out of Yuri's grasp and handed him to Mila, who immediately started administering CPR to the pliant body. Yuri only stared, uncomprehending of the events happening around him. He started to hyperventilate and his eyes went wide. Tears continued to stream down his face, but he paid them no mind. Yuri curled in on himself, hugging his knees crushingly close to his chest. Otabek enveloped him in a bear hug, shielding Yuri from the sight before them, but it didn't help. For all Yuri was concerned, Otabek might not even be there. 

So Otabek reconfigured his grasp and managed to pick the younger boy up, shouldering his weight and large frame just enough to move out of ear-shot of the doctors. Otabek had long ago checked up on Mila; now it was time for him to care for his best friend. 

He propped Yuri up against the nearest wall and pried his hands away from his tear-stained face. Yuri's green eyes were blood-shot and swollen, their reflection haunted. He hadn't been this bad when he found out that his parents were murdered, but Otabek was willing to bet that that was because Yuri hadn't seen their bloody bodies or watch as they  _stopped breathing._

Otabek wanted to cry. He wanted to cry because his Yura was crying, but also because Yuuri had come to mean a lot to the stoic alpha. He was good for Yuri and great company who didn't feel the need to puncture silence with unnecessary words like most of Otabek's other friends. He also cared a lot about Yuri, which earned a lot of points in Otabek's book. 

He wanted to cry to mourn the very possible death of a close friend, but he couldn't when Yuri was falling apart so completely.

"Yura," Otabek whispered gently, grasping his friend's shaking hands in his own, giving the blond something to hold on to. Yuri didn't meet his eyes, but he did hesitantly squeeze back. Good. He wasn't too gone to the point where he couldn't hear. "It's not okay. I'm not going to lie. Things are not okay. But that is the reason why I know that you can pull yourself out of this panic attack. I know you, Yura, and I know that you can fight the panic. Your people need you. I need you. Viktor and Yuuri? They  _definitely_ need you. So come on," Otabek took Yuri's right hand and rested it flush up against his own chest so he could feel Otabek's calm heartbeat. "fight it with me. In....and out. In....and out. In...."

They sat like that for a while, Otabek whispering soft assurances that he knew that Yuri could find his way out of his own mind and helping Yuri slow his lightning-fast breathing. And afterwards, they both looked at each other and the same need arose. They clumped against one another and cried.

* * *

Yuri was still leaning against that damn wall, a nameless nurse bandaging his arm and wiping away the blood from his wound. Otabek had left not too long ago, checking up on how they had held up with the attack. 

They had moved Yuuri to a much more stable and sanitary place after getting his heart back to beating about an hour ago, Mila telling him that Yuuri's wounds weren't too unlike Yuri's own stab wound a year ago. He supposed that it was meant to give Yuri a little hope that Yuuri would survive, but Yuri had only stared numbly at the red-head, giving up no reaction to the news. That's what he was now. Numb. Not feeling anything. Just....existing.

The nurse looked at him as she backed away, done with her task of dressing his wounds. He brought himself to look at her.

"I'm sorry," she said lowly, her expression unreadable. "I know that you lost someone; I can see it in every line of your body. But....you aren't the only one that lost someone today. I lost my husband."

The nurse got up and left without another word.

Yuri sat there, pondering why she would say something like that to him. Of course he knew that other people died. But none of them were Yuuri.

* * *

"You look like hell."

Hours had passed since the nurse had patched up his arm, and Yuri still sat at the wall. Numb. People had walked by him, glanced at him, but never said a word. 

He looked up, recognizing the voice but unbelieving in it's owner. It was Chris. Pale and exhausted, bandages covering his arms and one on the side of his face, but it was Chris looking down at him from his newly acquired spot on the wall across from Yuri, standing but leaning heavily against the broken plaster. 

Yuri must have been showing his confusion as to why Chris was up and walking, let alone here.

"I was in trouble back there, when I sent Viktor and Yuuri ahead, but when Viktor came back bounding up the stairs I suffered a hit to the head and crumpled to the ground. Viktor took most of the damage, stubborn bastard."

Chris sank down so he was sitting, and it was only then that Yuri saw the bottle of vodka in his hand. There was a dribble of liquid inside.

"Don't look at me like that; I asked Otabek to pour the rest out. I don't want to be drunk right now, just buzzed enough to take some of the pain away because there are other people that need the herbs more than I do." Chris drank the tiny bit of liquor and winced at its potency. "Strong stuff."

Yuri didn't say a word. Chris looked at him pointedly.

"When are you going to cut the 'woe is me' crap, because you have much more important things to be doing right now than sit up against a damn wall for the rest of your life."

Maybe it was the bluntness of the question, or the fact that Yuri had done nothing for hours but fester in his own thoughts, but he exploded.

"Well what the fuck do you want me to do, huh? Yuuri's probably dead and no one else-"

"No one else what Yuri? Damn it-" Chris threw his now empty bottle of vodka on the ground, the glass shattering with a loud  _BANG!_ "He isn't dead yet and you aren't the only one that cared about him so stop being such a selfish bastard! I cared about him, Otabek did, Mila and Sara, and of course Mich-" Chris stopped abruptly from finishing the name, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with his palms. "He was our friend too," Chris said quietly.

Yuri looked down at his hands, but apparently Chris wasn't done.

"Yuri, look at me. Yuri. Damn it Yuri look at me!" Yuri looked. Met Chris' pained gaze. "I'm worried sick over Viktor. At least you got to talk to him but by the time that I came to he was already fighting for his life with a bunch of doctors around him, trying to save him. If he dies I will have to live with the fact that I will never get to talk to him again. Not one more smile, not one more hug, not one more kiss. I'm not stopping from doing my duty. Until I came down here to save your ass I was helping dig survivors out of the wreckage." Yuri wanted to look away, away from the palpable emotions that were in Chris' eyes for they were chipping away at the numbness that Yuri felt, his own emotions starting to stir inside of him. Sadness. Depression. And a blood-curdling rage.

"Or look at Sara. I know that I can't blame you for not knowing, but she would have died if it wasn't for her brother to come to her rescue. The only problem? His wounds were to severe and he bled out by the time help arrived. He's dead." Chris' voice cracked and so did the numbness that Yuri surrounded himself with. All at once Yuri's shell broke into a million shards. A tear slid down Yuri's cheek. "Michele's dead. But if you go looking for Sara, she's not crying. She's still saving lives.

"Now you, Yuri, have the most important job out of all of us. You are the emperor and a damn good one at that. Your people need you to pull yourself together and lead them like you are supposed to. Right now Otabek is doing all he can, but he's never tried to run an empire before because unlike you he wasn't trained since birth for this job one day." Chris fell silent, looking at the shards of glass between them. "What would Yuuri say if he saw you right now? So broken and defeated, letting thousands of people down just because you're worried. Be someone that he would be proud of."

Chris stood after a moment of struggle and held out a hand for Yuri to take. At first, Yuri just looked at the sooty palm, but his numbness had finally let go of him and the  _rage_ inside threatened to consume him. There was no reason why Yuri had sat here. No excuse. Yuri grasped Chris' hand, felt the roughness of his palm under Yuri's own, and hauled himself to his feet for the first time since....he didn't know. 

Yuri met Chris' eyes with a grim reassurance and ordered Chris to find a place to rest and nurse his wounds; it would do no one any good further injure himself. At first the older man protested heavily, claiming all sorts of assurances that he was fine to continue helping, but Yuri wouldn't take no for an answer and reluctantly, Chris agreed, starting down the hall to find a place out of the way to rest. Yuri, however, immediately set to work finding Otabek, stopping to lend a hand here or there, or drop a word of praise or support as he went. Gradually, people became aware of his presence and it was in fact Otabek that found Yuri, engulfing the blond in a rare bear hug.

"Are you alright?"

"It doesn't matter if I am. I have an empire to support." Yuri said gently disentangling them both after a few moments of relishing in the contact. Yuri, for once, sported a stoic face while Otabek's was the one showing many more emotions than normal. "I'm sorry I haven't stepped up earlier. Can you brief me on the damage and what has been happening? Has the threat been addressed?" 

Otabek relayed all of the information of the attack and Yuri learned that most of the barbarians had been killed in the attack by the guards, only a few of them lasting to escape into the town, who already had soldiers chasing after them. The damage on the palace had been substantial and would require quite a lot of fixing to make it livable again after the fire, but it could be done. Casualties had been relatively high due to the surprise of the attack and there was an awful large majority of burns and sword wounds, a little less than half of them fatal. Medical supplies was wearing thin, but villagers from the surrounding city and towns had seen and heard of the catastrophe and arrived by wagon to help. In all, things were much better off than Yuri had even dared to hope.

Of course, when Yuri learned that the General had in fact not been accounted for, he had to work extremely hard to control his rage at the barbarian. Viktor had said something about the General following Yuuri, and Yuri had unfortunately seen that the General had in fact succeed in his mission of harming Yuuri, but Yuri had vainly held onto the hope that the plague that was the General had been ended by the smoke or fire, possibly wreckage falling at the right time. But the General's body had not been found and with most of the ruins cleared away, there was a near impossible chance that he would turn up dead.

"I want you to organize a team of men from those that are well enough and commence a search for that bastard, but if found report to me immediately; do not engage. I want to be the one to take him down." Yuri said darkly, the molten lava in his veins boiling. He wanted to rip the General apart. "Please." He added after a moment.

* * *

Yuri was helping a few nurses bandage wounds when a man ran up to him and started to drag him away.

"We've found 'im! We've found 'im! He's along the east wood, just sitting there with his sword out! Come quick sire, come quick!" 

Yuri broke away from the man and sprinted to where his horse, rescued from the stables, was tied to a post. Yuri flung himself onto the saddle and yanked so hard on the tied reins that he nearly took the whole wooden post along with it, urging his horse to swift speeds in order to catch the bane of Yuri's existence. Visions of his parents' dead bodies on their funeral pyre flashed behind his eyelids, their cold bodies locked in an endless sleep. He would never be able to hug them again, ask them on advice, tell them that he loved them ever again. Because of the General.

To say that Yuri viewed the world in a red haze was a gross understatement.

Yuri crashed trough the brambles in his way, still astride his trusty steed, taking to the path marked by bleeding arrows. So the General wanted Yuri to find him? So be it. Yuri would play his games. Dimly, he could hear the shouts of Otabek rousing men to Yuri's aid, and logic told him that he should wait for assistance, but logic was thrown to the wind. Yuri had waited long enough to rid the world of this disease of a man and he would not lose his chance now. He couldn't, not after the new round of wounds the General inflicted. 

The General was waiting, sitting upon a log of great proportions, his sword not even drawn and eyes closed, head turned up towards the sun as if in a harmless rest from traveling. Yuri snarled, reining in his horse and jumping from the saddle, drawing his sword in one fluid motion and and running forward, flexing the muscles in his arms and chest as he drew back for a powerful blow. His mind was encompassed in one thought; to destroy. 

"Die, bastard!" He yelled as his sword cut threw the air on a downward strike.

The General reacted, drawing his own weapon and sliding out of the way so Yuri's sword bit in deep into the rotten wood where the General had just been sitting seconds ago. With a howl of rage Yuri yanked it free and spun, murderous eyes meeting with his enemy's. This was it. Only one of them would walk away from this encounter alive and Yuri would be damned if it wasn't him. 

This time the General met Yuri and their swords clashed powerfully, metal dancing in the dappled sunlight. They hurled insults at each other relentlessly and played dirty, trying to kick the feet out from their opponent and blinding one another with the glint of their swords. Yuri had greatly improved from the last time that he faced the General and their battle was more even than ever. Yuri's heartbeat banged in his ears. Sweat dripped down his forehead. The rage inside swept up and consumed him.

Yuri feigned a thrust, doubling back into a much more complicated pary that Yuri had learned solely from Chris. As he anticipated the General had never come across the improvised strike and fumbled to counter it correctly. Yuri's sword successfully stabbed into the meaty flesh of the General's upper arm.

"That was for Yuuri," the blond growled, yanking his weapon out and taking advantage of his opponent's temporary wave of pain, slashing upwards with all of his might. The General, formidable opponent he was, was able to see the attack and push away the agony stemming from his arm long enough to thrust up his sword and cause Yuri's blade to skirt off of his, the emperor's blade opening up a gash across the General's cheek, blood instantly welling up and dripping down. "For my mother."

Yuri pushed away the man and kicked forward with all of the strength he possessed, his heel connecting with the General's kneecap. The joint gave with a loud  _snap!_ and with a howl of pain the General collapsed heavily against the ground. Yuri would have smirked at the victory so close to his grasp, but his face remained fixed in a deadly snarl. He stood over his enemy, sword raised. As he brought it down, Yuri realized his mistake when the General moved, reaching next to him and grasping a massive handful of the sandy soil that was a characteristic of the region they were in and flung it up. Yuri screamed as the grit landed in his eyes and stumbled back, dropping his sword so both of his hands could reflexively fly to his face, pawing at his eyes. 

Tears streamed down his face in his body's attempt to rid his eyes from the sand and soil, and Yuri tried to open his eyelids from their closed position, only succeeding in a tiny crack forming between them. His vision was blurry from both tears and the offending matter. Shapes danced in front of him.  _He couldn't see he couldn't see-_

A large, hunched over shape fell over him and Yuri knew that it must have been the General. Lines started to form and more colors started to come up. Small details presented themselves. It was better than before, but he couldn't defend himself like this. He'd die in an instant. 

The General raised his arm, the sword nothing more than a blurry mass. Yuri backed away, tripping over a tree root and falling onto his back.  _Fuck fuck fuck get up get up!_

Yuri rubbed his irritated eyes once more, desperate for the finer details of his sight to return to him. He made a move to get up but the General only pushed him down with a hand. No he couldn't do this he was way too disoriented to fight properly. Curse the General! Curse him!

The sound of running footsteps greeted Yuri's ears and he resisted the urge to turn and look; it wouldn't do him much good anyways. The snap of a bow. A yelp and the shadow fell away. A hand grabbed Yuri's arm and hauled him up, but it was gentle and he recognized it.

"It's just me, Yura," Otabek whispered in his ear. Yuri fought off his relief; he needed to be invincible right now.

The General was on the ground, what Yuri thought was an arrow lodged deep in his shoulder, but he wasn't quite certain, for it just looked like a thin line erupting from his body. Yuri could see how blood from both wounds Yuri had inflicted stained his skin and clothing. Yuri looked around and was greeted with the blurry sight of his men stationed in a circle across the whole clearing, blocking any escape, and felt a surge of pride for them. They were good men. 

He turned his attention back to the defeated General, who still looked at Yuri with a murderous gaze. 

"Under my authority as emperor, I sentence you to death."

"At what charges?" the General asked, his accent thick. "I am not a citizen of your dreadful  _empire._ What makes you think you are able to determine when my life should end? You are no god; you do not have that power over me." His tone was mocking.

Yuri opened his mouth to brashly shut down any attempt of insult to him or his lands, but Otabek beat him to it, setting a calming palm on Yuri's shoulder.

"You have entered our lands illegally, burned dozens of villages to the ground, murdered hundreds, including orchestrating and going about the murder of our former emperor and empress. You have attacked the castle, attempted to murder our current emperor and his desired, not to include members of the court and royal family. You have broken multiple laws--that even apply to foreigners--that warrant death. You have no plea, no power. You're fate is in the emperor's hands."

Yuri took a step forward and grasped his fallen sword. His vision was returning, and he could successfully see most things, including the horrible glare the General was barring at him, no matter if it was still a little fuzzy. 

"Any last words?" Yuri asked.

The General spat at the ground and released a long string of curses and insults in his native tongue. Yuri nodded and addressed his men: "Keep your weapons handy, bows drawn. If he moves, kill him."

Yuri strode forward, his step heavy. He raised his sword above the General's prone figure, looking down at the man coiled tight like a spring beneath him. There was no pity or mercy in Yuri's green eyes. 

"This is for my father."

Yuri struck down, but never got the chance to kill the man who ripped away everything from him. The General lunged at the last second, moving to stab Yuri through the heart with a concealed dagger, but fell flat inches too soon after several arrows ricocheted into his body, piercing his heart and killing him instantly. Yuri's breath was heavy and he looked down.

The General was dead.

It was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So at least the General is dead but MICHELE I'M SO SORRY I PROMISE IT'S NOT YOU IT'S ME (wow it sounds like I'm breaking up with him sorry Michele)  
> *wipes tears* *hands tissues to everyone*  
> anyways, about Viktor and Yuuri. At this point, I can either make them die or live, or one die and the other live, or whatever, and I'm at a loss about what to do bc character death really inspires some deep character development, but I don't know if I can do that to them? To you guys? To me? idk, if you want I will accept any and all reasoning and opinions as to what future you guys want. Maybe one of them will inspire me.  
> (I don't think I'll kill them but who knows I've def had thoughts about it no matter now traumatizing it would be)
> 
> HOLY FUCK I'M LOOKING AT THE STATS FOR THIS FIC AND I'M CRYING????? what did I do to deserve this I'm so emotional right now.....I can't I love you guys so much, all of the comments and kudos and hits and encouragement I love you all have some love <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 (my love is a lot larger believe me)
> 
> (sorry for mistakes I didn't read over this one last time whoops someone send help this writer is drowning in her own writing and can't bear to read it a second time)


	17. Pain Is Stronger Than Any Knife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo everyone.  
> Sorry, but I was unable to finish this chapter before I left for vacation, so this is later than I hoped. But.....you know what what the hell there is no but this chapter is shorter than I usually make them but it's so sad and I'm crying again I'm so sorry
> 
> (p.s. the rest of my summer is free so until september-ish when school starts again for me updates should be regular, and I'm thinking one or /maybe/ two a week)

Yuri was numb again.

It wasn't the paralyzing numbness that had taken a hold of his mind and body after seeing Yuuri bruised and bloodied on the floor. It was more of a shock. A shock of looking down and seeing how the General's twisted form sagged limply in the dirt. The numbness of it being over. Over. It was over.

He would never again gaze out at the stars and scowl, knowing that his parents' murderer was still reeking havoc underneath the same night sky. His parents' could rest in peace, and so could he. He was dead. The General was dead. Yuri had always imagined that those words would cause an involuntary smile to spread across his features and happiness to settle over his bones, but all he was able to distinguish from his numbness was relief. Relief. It was over.

Yuri turned away, from the General, and with it, from all of the pain and horror that accompanied that man. It was over. He was free. Yuri still couldn't believe it.

Yuri remounted his horse and followed Otabek out of the woods and back to where the piles of rubble that made up his once-standing castle were still smoking. Well, it wasn't all rubble. Some of the upper floors were remotely spared from the fire. Yuri's eyes scanned the royal grounds, watching as people scurried left and right, back and forth, ripping what they could from the tragedy and pushing it aside to start anew. He was awed. All these people with all these lives had come together and started to piece the past back together in their own little rebellion against the forces that tried to strike them down. It was remarkable.

Yuri tied his horse back onto the wooden post, near most of the other animals that escaped, and let Otabek lead him away from the general crowd of people. The blond let the older man sit him down on an improvised seat of burnt wood charred to a crisp and tilt his head back. Yuri knew what was coming and he opened his eyes wider even though the action disturbed the sand and dirt still in them and sent agony radiating through his nerves. His vision had returned little by little with every passing minute, but things were still blurry and it needed to be tended to sooner rather than later.

Otabek used the water from his canteen at his side and as the cool liquid washed over Yuri's eyes he couldn't help but wince and pull away with a groan.

"Fuck that hurts," Yuri said under his breath. Otabek didn't nod or offer a rumble of sympathy, only gently tilted Yuri's head back and this time held it in place. "If you hadn't been hell bent on reaching that bastard first this wouldn't have happened." was all Otabek said, his voice hard. Yuri instantly stopped the complaint that was on his tongue and ready to be released when he heard that. Otabek was pissed at him. Fuck.

He didn't say anything and tried to keep the winces and involuntary jerks of his head to a minimum as Otabek washed the cause of his pain away. He must have really upset Otabek if he was already resorting to cold logic and stoic words to lace and sharpen his displeasure. Normally, if he had done something worthy of this reaction, Yuri would have waited until Otabek was ready to confront him about it, but today was not the day to keep explosive emotions at bay. Yuri had to deal with this.

Otabek handed Yuri a cloth to dab the water away from his eyes and Yuri was pleased to see that his vision was now clear, and the stinging in his eyes from the cleansing fading. He moved to hand the cloth back, but Otabek was already moving away, back in the direction where Mila had set up her medical station.

"Otabek, we can't do this, not now." Yuri said, putting a hand on his best friend's shoulder. Otabek turned to face him, his emotions even more expertly buried than normal to the point that Yuri couldn't even tell what he was thinking or feeling. It scared Yuri. His friend had never been this shut off from him. Otabek said nothing. "Come on, Beka, what's going on?"

"Why couldn't you have waited for me to round up the men first? Why did you have to rush into things?"

"Because I had been waiting for the chance to kill him for years!  _Years,_ Beka!"

"Waiting a few extra minutes wouldn't have ruined your revenge, Yuri! We both know that the General was the most formidable enemy we have ever seen, and an even better swordsman."

"Are you trying to say that I couldn't handle him?" Yuri asked hotly. Otabek sighed deeply.

"No, I'm saying that. I'm saying that you needed backup.  _Anyone_ would have needed-"

"Fuck you I was fine! I didn't need any backup!" Yuri knew that what he was saying was a lie, but he was strung up from the ambush and the fight and everything in between, and the words just spilled over his lips in a roll of anger with no control. He wanted to take them back.

Otabek looked at him darkly.

"Yes, you did. When the men and I found our way to you you were on the ground, weaponless and clutching at your eyes, the General standing over you, his sword raised and seconds away from killing you. Is that what you call 'fine'? Yuri, you were too emotional to handle him alone and you should have waited! What do you think would have happened if I hadn't gotten there when I did? Or if I hadn't ripped the bow out of one of the soldiers hands because I feared he wouldn't react in time? What if I missed? Goddamnit Yuri you would be dead!" Otabek said harshly, nearly yelling the last few words. The anger in Yuri dissipated. Otabek was right.

"And while we're on the subject, let's think about the first time you ran into the General. Yet again, you ran ahead all by yourself set on slaying him single handedly, but when I found you you were knocked out in the dirt. Do know how easy it would have been for him to kill you then? Yuri, fuck, I almost lost you,  _twice!_ "

"Otabek, I-I-" Yuri fumbled for words, but he didn't know what to say.

"I let the first instance go because you already had so much to shoulder with the war and your parents' deaths and ruling the kingdom, but I can't let this time slide. I can't lose you, not like this. Never like this." Otabek took a step toward Yuri, and the blond was relieved to see that the stoic barrier had been broken, flickers of emotions in Otabek's dark eyes. However, he was not relieved to see pain and hurt in those emotions. Had him and his recklessness really caused that? "Even when we were in battle, you were always looking for trouble without a damn for who was ready to back you up if you just waited for a few moments. You have plenty of people that are counting on you, especially now and you need to be there for them, not six feet under for stupidly refusing to wait. I'll follow you anywhere but you  _need_ to let me."

"Beka, I'm sorry. It's just--I've always-"

"I know. I know. But for now, I need to know that you'll stop. Please, Yuri, I can't lose my best friend and I almost did today. Not again."

Yuri ignored the lump in his throat and nodded silently. It wasn't very often that Otabek divulged his thoughts so openly and to think that one of the rare times he did it was the result of Yuri coming close to death? Yuri couldn't say that he didn't see it coming--Otabek had before expressed concern in Yuri's reckless behavior, but it was when they were younger and Yuri had brushed it of every time--but he still felt awful. Otabek was right. If he hadn't been backed up Yuri would have died today with no one to possibly pick up the pieces and do damage control.

A thought of Otabek's face upon finding Yuri dead at the General's feet sprung up but he pushed it back down. He would have to make it up to the older man somehow.

At his silent agreement, Otabek visibly relaxed, relieved. The anger faded from his eyes and he gathered Yuri into a hug that they both needed. Yuri wrapped his arms around his best friend. 

"Thank you, Yura," Otabek sighed.

Things might not have been the best in the world right now, but they would be okay.

* * *

After hours of helping tend to the wounds of all of the survivors, Mila was exhausted. Actually, no, exhausted was an understatement. Her feelings were more like when-will-sleep-come-for-me. 

She didn't really have the right to complain though. She come out unscathed and so had Otabek. Chris had the right to curse the heavens for Viktor's injuries. Yuri was more than expected to scream and cry after watching his love's heart  _literally stop beating in his arms._ And Sara, who had watched as her brother Michele flung himself in the way of a sword thrust for her sake, crumpling down on the ground afterwards, seconds before help arrived, spending the next few minutes watching the light leave from his eyes.

So Mila, had no right, in her opinion, to be gripping about her emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion. She should not be on the verge of falling apart like she is now. Yes, two of her closest friends are on the brink of death and one is already dead, but that was all the more reason for her to keep her cool. Her friends needed her. So with a grim setting of her jaw and a deep breath, Mila pushed down the whirlwind of emotions ripping through her deep enough to not bother her for the moment and waved at the soldiers standing at attention to send the next person in her make-shift medical tent.

She had lives to save. Not another soul would die on her watch. Too many already had.

* * *

Sara kneeled next to her brother on the ground. Mila had forced her out of the medical tent hours ago because Sara trying to ignore the events of the day was not working in the slightest, no matter how deep the denial ran. So, Sara had wandered away aimlessly, and found her way to the mortician's tent. Several dozen bodies were there, and Sara wouldn't know if she would be able to recognize any of the other faces there because once the tent entered her sight, she immediately found herself looking down at her brother. 

Oh gods....Michele....

Sara felt her throat close up and with a shaky hand, reached down, cupping Michele's face. Cold. Too cold. Cold like ice.

And with the feeling of her brother's icy and lifeless skin the dam broke.

With a sob Sara doubled over, salty tears blinding her vision and stinging her cheeks. She clutched at Michele's bloodied clothes, his ruffled hair, stared at his ashen face and closed eyes. She would have loved to lift the lids to see his eyes once more and revel in their unique color, but she knew that they would not be the same color as they had been, hours ago. they would be missing their spark. And while she was breaking, snapping in half, tearing at the seams, seeing that would shatter her into a million pieces, too small to pick back up. 

The thing was, was that Sara was crying over a body. A dead, lifeless body that had not been her brother. What had been her dearest brother, her rock, her Michele, the thing that kept her together, was not in the body. All of the things that made him so special, so amazing were gone. The sparkle of his eyes, how he would wake up with the most severe cowlick, how he cried when she left to go help the medical effort in the war, how he had swung her up into his arms when she returned, all of their games as children, the miracle of his laugh....all of it and even more was gone....reduced to the dust of the heavens, leaving this shell, this sack of meat that looked too similar and too different in it's wake.

His light accent, his over-protectiveness that Sara once thought she hated but now couldn't imagine living without, everything, gone, with one swing of a sword. One action that can never be taken back. 

It was so unfair. Michele, who had lived for over twenty years, constantly evolving his personality into something better and more exquisite than before was ripped away so harshly, so suddenly. One moment he was alive, breathing and living, but then, in the span of a heart beat, he was gone. Dead. Exhaling his last in Sara's arms, tears streaming down her  face and his own.

 _"Look at you, Sara,"_ he had said, blood flecked across his face, gushing out from his body from the wound that Sara was desperately trying to press closed.  _"My Sara, my beautiful Sara."_ He had know that he was dying. It was plain in his eyes, in the way he set his face. The most peculiar thing though, was that Sara, both then and now, could not find an ounce of remorse or regret. It seemed as if he was content with the cards life dealt him.

_Michele reached up, trying to wipe away Sara's tears away with his shaking hands, trying to comfort her sobs with a sad but unbelievably loving smile. "Don't cry, Sara, we will see each other again, it's just that I will see mother and father for a while first. And it will be a while since we meet again, you better promise me that." Michele grew stern. "I don't want to see you again for a long time. I want you to move on, find a nice lover to settle down with and have lots of kids--you've always wanted a big family. I want you to pass late at night, under the light of a thousand stars, warm in your bed, the years causing your skin to wrinkle and your hair to lighten, your family around you. Promise me, Sara, promise."_

_"I-I prom....I p-promise" Sara managed to choke out, sobs racking her body. Michele smiled, and it was just like when they were kids, when they had nothing to worry about. He looked at peace._

_"Good. See to it that you keep it. I love you, Sara, you are the light of my life, you know that? I love you, so much."_

_Sara tried to force out how much she loved him, her brother, her best friend, and how if he died right now she would kill him because they couldn't be separated--they still had so much left to do together. But it was as if her heart opened too far too fast and the words stuck in her throat, unable to come out. She only cried harder when Michele nodded in understanding._

_"It's going to be hard, Sara, but you will be okay, I promise you, because I know that you are strong. You will come out on top."_

_Michele's eyes were now half lidded, his voice weak and quiet enough that Sara had to lean down to hear him correctly. His hand was still on her cheek, it was still warm._

_"I love you, Sara, never forget that."_

_Michele's body stilled, his eyes closed, and the hand fell away with a_ thump.  _Sara screamed._

 _No no no, Michele was wrong,_ Sara thought as she sobbed harder, she could not rise above this. She could not.

And just like that,

Sara

broke.

* * *

Chris sat up against a tree, staring at the sky. His eyes were raw and red-rimmed from his relentless crying that hadn't ceased. He had so many regrets. Mainly, they revolved around Viktor. How Chris hadn't acted on his feelings earlier, how he had failed to protect Viktor and Yuuri, how he hadn't been able to potentially say goodbye to his love. And now, with Viktor fighting for his life, he possibly might never. 

Chris took a swig from his bottle of vodka, this time, it was nearly full, and what liquid was gone was because he had drank it, not because it had been dumped. Chris had helped where he could, and with nothing else to keep his mind distracted, he had crumpled, turning to alcohol to try and numb the pain in his heart.

Gods, that pain was intense. It consumed him, ripped a hole in his chest, sent his head spiraling down a void of dark thoughts. But he couldn't escape. Not now. Not when the guilt and love for his Viktor was tearing him to shreds. 

Viktor and his laugh.

His smile.

His blue, blue eyes.

His everything.

Potentially gone.

Chris took another swig of vodka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sobbing*
> 
> (not edited)


	18. Asleep or Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sadness, pain, and....a ray of hope (and fluff! Yay! I see the light at the end of the tunnel of angst!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *frantically tries to figure out how to type the chapter title like how gerard way would say it in Famous Last Words* *fails*

 

**Three days later....**

 

It was a solemn affair.

Yuri watched as a crying Sara lit the torch, walking across the grass to the where the funeral pyre was. The pyre was made of pieces of wood from the palace that survived the fire and weren't too badly damaged, but would have been cut out anyways for the rebuilding. And atop the whole thing, dressed in his favorite shirt, was Michele. His face was peaceful, eyes closed, hands folded together on his stomach, asleep. _Permanently, that is,_ Yuri reminded himself.

Sara lit the pyre, the orange flames dancing across the wood hungrily. Yuri never liked fire but now, it was even worse than before. 

In a single heartbeat Yuri relieved a handful of painful memories. 

He was where Sara was, dressed in his darkest blacks, but the body waiting for it's burning were his parents, side-by-side and looking just as peaceful, just as almost alive.

Yuri was on the battlefield, tongues of flame burning around him, the fire of a barbarian set to consume any in it's path. Men were around him, screaming in pain. The flames caught his jacket and Yuri screamed as it ate at the material, burning his skin. He still had the scars on his back.

Yuri was back as his palace burned around him, his hand clasped around Yuuri's, feeling the fear start to push up and try to cause him panic. But then there was a crash and Yuuri's hand was yanked out of his harshly, a wave of heat rushing up behind Yuri. He spun to find a gaping hole in the floor, fire filling the room underneath, Yuuri no where to be seen.

The last one wasn't really a memory, more of a nightmare, but one that could potentially be painfully true.

Yuri was lighting another pyre--no, two--watching as the fire licked over the bodies of his cousin and lover. Watching as he lost Viktor and Yuuri forever. 

It hurt.

But that hurt was more composed of the scene in front of him, at the moment. Michele was a great friend of his and he had known him and Sara since they were all kids. Michele had been the one that had taught Yuri to ride a horse and shoot a bow. They had gone exploring in the woods together at sunset on a myriad of occasions, each time coming back in the black of night with new stories and a stronger friendship. He had been their for Yuri when he had lost his parents, knowing the pain himself after losing his own parents years before. 

And  _fuck,_ if Yuri said he was merely sad at Michele's passing he was a liar. It was the feeling of having the carpet pulled out from under your feet. A kind of lost that came with grief, hand in hand. Yuri wasn't just 'sad', he was distraught, hollowed out and filled with misery. He missed him. Fuck did Yuri already miss him. 

The flames had spread, just starting to pick at the clothing Michele wore. 

Goddamn it all, Michele was a lover, not a fighter, he should have died decades from now with a full and complete life behind in his wake, family around him and not a regret in his heart. He shouldn't have died so violently, so suddenly, from such an unforgiving and unworthy source as he had. He deserved the death of an old man, not one of a hero that not a soul would remember. At least, not a soul besides any of the people gathered here.

It was just the six of them as always. As if they were going out for another night in the village to spend it at a tavern, or chasing each other on their horses. Except, one of them was on a wooden deathbed and they were now five. Sara, standing solemnly off to the side, just out of the reach of the flames, silent tears streaming down her face, her horrified eyes staring disbelievingly at the prone figure of her brother. Mila and Otabek standing together, arm and arm, Mila crying into Otabek's shoulder and him trying to halfheartedly comfort his girlfriend, crying himself. Chris leaning against a tree, his health still not up to par, not even bothering to stifle the sobs leaving his chest and the look of cheated revenge on his face. Yuri knew that look, he had worn it many times, but he knew that Chris would lose it soon enough. And finally, Yuri himself, standing a few feet away from Mila and Otabek, the heat of the fire hot on his skin. He didn't even notice the tears streaking down his cheeks.

There wasn't a way to die less like himself, though. Michele, the forever protector of his beloved sister, dying to save her. Gods, true to his cause even in the end.

The pyre was now resembling and inferno and all of Michele that Yuri could see was the faint outline of his shadow. 

Fuck, it hurt.

Yuri walked over to where Sara stood, the flames much more intense here than where he was standing before. She didn't look at him or acknowledge his presence. Yuri wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into a silent embrace of support. Sara bit her lip and her numb facade fell apart. Yuri let her sob into the crook of his neck and clutch at his shirt. He could hear her cries perfectly over the roar of the fire. 

Chris was the next to join them, followed my Mila tearing out of Otabek's arms and flinging herself over the three of them with the sob, Otabek coming in right after and completing the hug. They were all crying, all trying to comfort each other and take comfort from the embrace they surrounded themselves in. 

For the whole five hours that it took they stood their together, sometimes in a huddle, sometimes in a line, hand and hand, arm and arm. But they were there until long after the fire had gone out and there was nothing but cooling ashes littering the ground, shifting in the breeze.

* * *

  
**Five days later....**

 

Yuri didn't know if he even wanted to know. Here he was, outside the door to the medical ward, just one decision away from knowing Yuuri's condition. Could he do it, if he found out that it was just a matter of time until Yuuri died? Fuck it, if that was the case then he should be spending all the time he could with Yuuri while he was able to. But....wouldn't that just hurt more later on?

"Yuri, you're here. Come on it."

Yuri hadn't noticed when Mila had opened the door, but at her voice his head snapped up and he stared wide-eyed at her. She had bags under her eyes and she looked beaten down in more ways than just physical, but there was still a hint of the usual playful glimmer in her eye, so maybe not all hope was lost. Maybe. Yuri wasn't so sure. 

The red headed beta grabbed Yuri's hand and pulled him inside when it was obvious that he wasn't going to move on his own accord. The medical ward smelled of the herbs that nurses and doctors commonly used and the distinct stench of sickness. Yuri walked past a few cots, some of the residents sleeping, others awake and he would toss a watery grin in their direction. It was painfully obvious that it didn't reach his eyes and he was only doing it to try and get his mind off of the person he was in here to see. 

Yuuri's cot was in the back, where all of the other more extensively injured victims were. All of the people here needed constant supervision and attentive care. Yuri spotted Viktor in the cot next to Yuuri's, eyes closed, face still paler than normal. Yuri and his friends had already heard the verdict on Viktor's health.

"How do you want me to tell you this?"

With Mila's words, Yuri tore his eyes away from his sleeping cousin and his gaze settled on the face of his beloved. Yuuri looked dead to the world, his skin like milk, lips almost blue in their discoloration, black hair and unneeded contrast to his pasty complexion. Gods, the sight made him want to cry.

"Just tell me," Yuri responded quietly, fearful. Mila sighed. Yuri trembled.

"It's too early to say if he will live or die. There is no definite answer right now, and something tells me that there never will be. He had a few broken ribs from his fall through the floor, and these were aggravated in his attempt at escape. He suffered second-degree burns in several spots on his body, but most of them were on his arms and legs, as were most of his bruising. Several cuts and gashes he received required for us to give him stitches, but they are not the problem and have a very low chance of becoming infected."

Mila was stalling, Yuri knew she was, and Mila was fully aware that Yuri knew.

"Get to the fucking point." Yuri growled, but it lacked all malice. Yuri didn't have the strength to be angry right now.

"His sword wound didn't hit any major organs, but it did mangle one of his kidneys, and we had to remove it-Yuri wait!"

Yuri was running. Where? He didn't know. He just had to get out from the suffocating feeling of this medical ward, get away from the reality that had to be true at that statement. It didn't hit any major organs, huh? Well a fucking kidney sounded pretty damn major to him. So he ran. And ran. And ran, until he was crashing through the forest and twigs and leaves were scratching at his face and arms, prying at his clothes and trying to keep their hold. Yuri kept running, he didn't stop until his foot caught on a tree root and he fell, slamming into the forest floor, but he barely registered his smarting knee and scraped palms. He pulled himself to the tree that tripped him, leaning against the rough bark, shaking like a leaf during a storm. 

And then he was sobbing again, clutching at his chest and letting out every single emotion he had been trying to push down in the past week. All of the pain from Michele's death and the guilt from Viktor's injuries. Yuri's misery and remorse from it all, from trying to put on a brave face and deal with it by himself because he was the emperor and that was what was expected from him. He needed to be an unstoppable and unfeeling leader that everyone can lean on. But he wasn't, gods he wasn't. He was just a kid who missed the embrace of his mother and the smile of his father and was being crushed with the weight of the responsibility of his country and the grief of losing a friend, and possibly a cousin and a lover.

Fuck, he was sobbing because of Yuuri too. Yuuri, sweet, innocent Yuuri who might or might not be dying but Yuri can't, he can't know because if it is too late for his love then that would be it, he would break. He would shatter like Sara did, like he had when his parents died. But he couldn't recover like he did from the murder of his family. He couldn't because it seemed that his very soul had taken a hold of that sweet little omega and stitched him into the very fabric of what Yuri was made out of. Yes, when they were both recovering in the palace over a year ago, it had always looked like it had been Yuri letting Yuuri lean on him and take strength and comfort, but little did the rest of the world--Yuuri and Yuri included--know that the healing was mutual. Yuri was using Yuuri to heal from the wounds his parents' deaths had caused him without even knowing. 

They had a bond, a bond that was so deep Yuri knew that he would never know the end of it.

So Yuri cried in the forest, leaning up against the tree that brought him down. He cried from how things used to be. He cried for Michele. He cried for Viktor. He cried for his parents. He cried for Yuuri. He cried.

* * *

Viktor  _hurt._

It was an all around feeling of dull pain, muted from the herbs he had most definitely been fed during his slumber while his body and mind were gone. It was strange, feeling so much after nothing at all. He was looking up at Yuri, trying to say something important--because gods Viktor for some reason knew that this was the most important thing in the world--but his body and tongue alluded him and he could. HE was speaking riddles, trying but failing at saying what he needed to because the black around his vision was growing and he knew that it was only a matter of time before--and then nothing. Blissful, numbness that stripped Viktor of it all. Emotion, thought, pain, suffering--numb. He was numb.

But now....he could feel. He was back, returned from the inky blackness that had surrounded him so completely, and he was trying to make sense of it all. 

Viktor tried to break it down.

He felt a little lost, and his emotions weren't up to par, that was for sure, but he was fully aware that he was in intense pain. It radiated from what Viktor could guess was something like a gash across his chest, one line of white-hot pain that stretched from his left shoulder, down, and to the bottom of the right side of his rib cage. He groaned.

How long had he been unconscious? A day? Two? Three? Where was he? What had happened?

Memories of that night suddenly assaulted Viktor and he gasped as he remembered it all. Finding Yuuri in the burning hallway, the General finding them, Viktor racing back to help Chris.....

_Chris. Yuuri._

Viktor sat up, or at least tried to, and instantly regretted it. His vision blacked out and he let out a strangled gasp of pain before falling back, breathing deeply and struggling to regain his breath. Cool hands rested on his shoulders, gently but firmly keeping him on the bed he was lying in. 

"Stay there, Lord Nikiforov, you don't want to hurt yourself further."

Viktor didn't recognize the voice, but something told him that he wouldn't at their "Lord Nikiforov". None of his friends called him that at least. 

"Breathe slower, calm down, you're alright, that attack is over, you've just been unconscious for a little bit. You're in the medical ward, you're safe." 

The stranger kept talking in that low, calm voice, telling Viktor where he was and what he was okay until he had stilled under her touch, his vision back, breath normal. He stared at the ceiling, mapped it out in his head to stop his racing thoughts. The woman's hands left and Viktor heard her walk away only for her to return moments later, a cup in hand. She held his head propped up as he drank the water, the cool liquid soothing his scratchy throat.

Afterwards, Viktor fell asleep.

* * *

The next time he woke, there was a weight on his chest and he felt warm, unbelievably. 

Looking down, Viktor came face to face with not-so-little-anymore Yura curled up next to him, head on Viktor's chest, looking like he was five and in his parents' bed after a bad dream. Viktor smiled before he became aware that there were other people crowded around him, three to be exact. Mila and Otabek were asleep on each other, the chairs they were sitting in pushed up flush against one another. And.... _Chris._ The alpha was sitting on the other side, opposite of the couple in a too-small chair, his form slumped in sleep but his hand encasing Viktor's. Viktor grinned so hard this time it hurt, deciding to ignore the fact that Yuuri wasn't visible in favor for reaching out and carding his fingers through his Chris' hair. 

Viktor was still in pain, and maybe it was amplified due to Yuri's head resting where it was, but that was okay, because feeling pain meant that he was  _alive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE IS HOPE
> 
> (not edited)


	19. And Without You Is How I Disappear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my sins are being fixed. Viktor is awake, Yuuri gets hope, and *sighs in relief* there will be FLUFF (I think we all deserve this)
> 
> (for those of you that are waiting on reading my updates because of the angst this is your all clear, things are not angsty anymore)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs up* *flings chapter at you* HAVE SOME HOPE IT'S TIME I BROUGHT US ALL OUT OF THE DARK
> 
> (little short again, sorry guys)

Viktor answered his own burning question the following evening, after his friends had left.

He had been supposed to be sleeping almost two hours ago, but due to a whirling mind he only was able to successfully lie on his side, eyes closed in a futile attempt at slumber. He could only assume that the nurses and doctors around him thought he was deep asleep, for no one had come up to him and asked him about how he felt in ages, which wouldn't have been unheard of with the mother-henning nature that almost always encompasses them.

So when Viktor heard footsteps pass past his bed and the sound of a curtain falling open, his curiosity piqued, but he did not open his eyes for fear of blowing his cover. But after a few heartbeats and he didn't hear the swoosh of the curtain closing, shielding in the mysterious cot and doctor, he did open them, blinking to get used to the darkness. The neighbor in the cot next to him had always had that stretch of fabric blocking the rest of the medical ward out ever since Viktor had awoken, and he could only assume that it had been their even before that. Sure, doctors and nurses had passed in and out--Mila being one of those doctors, Viktor took care to note--but the curtain had always swished shut in an instant, not even letting a peek of as to who was in the bed pass.

With a turn of his head Viktor's eyes sailed right passed the form of a nurse checking the vitals of the patient and went right up to the headspace of the bed to find-

-Yuuri.

Viktor's eyes widened and he inhaled sharply, but not loud enough to alert the nurse of his intrusion. Yuuri looked even smaller than he was in the cot and incredibly pale, his chest rising and falling with the barest motions, eyes closed, hair limp. It was wrong, wrong wrong wrong Yuuri shouldn't be in that bed. He should be at his father's castle by now, judging for the time that Chris had said had passed between that fateful night and Viktor regaining consciousness. 

It was wrong, all  _wrong._

But the figure lying in bed was unmistakably Katsuki Yuuri, and he was unmistakably, injured. Horribly.

Viktor felt his breathe quicken and himself sitting up, but it was as if he was detached, his eyes boring holes into Yuuri's unresponsive form. He barely registered trying to struggle to his feet in a desperate attempt at contact with one of his best friends, or when the nurse had turned around, surprised at his movement and rushing to push him back into a prone position. He did, however, stop his feeble protesting when Mila--looking as if she had just been roused from bed, Chris in tow, a similar state of exhaustion shrouding his features--arrived. She took one look at the open curtain, forgotten over trying to calm down Viktor, and sighed, pulling up a chair and motioning for Chris to do the same. 

Chris sat and immediately took one of Viktor's hands, threading their fingers together and pulling Viktor in for a hug, but Viktor pulled away. He didn't want to be consoled right now, or talked to with soft words. He wanted answers as to why no one-- _especially_ Chris, of all people--told him and what  _exactly_ was making Yuuri look as if Death himself was watching over his bed. Damnit why hadn't he been told!

"Viktor, look, I don't know-"

"What is wrong with him, Mila? And why does he look like a corpse!" Viktor didn't shout, but he certainly wasn't quiet about his interruption, making Mila give him a sharp look that warned him of where he was and to not raise his voice in fear of waking other patients.

"We have a lot of explaining to do Viktor, that is obvious, but keep your voice down; there are sick and injured people trying to sleep."

* * *

Yuri was laying in the damp grass several hundred meters from the edge of where the guards patrolled and staring up at the stars when Otabek found him. He didn't speak, not at first, just silently walked up to Yuri's side and sat down before completely lying on the ground next to his friend. Otabek was silent beside him, and Yuri wasn't going to change that any time soon.

Looking at the night sky was something that Yuri used to do when he was little, but as he aged the tradition turned into a novelty that he only employed when he was overly stressed. Once his parents died, the action became even more forgotten, resulting in a few scattered glimpses at the stars as Yuri traveled at night with his army, but nothing more. 

Ever since the attack, Yuri found himself spending most of every night here, far away enough from everyone else that the noises faded to a gentle hum and Yuri could calmly think. Yuri had found early on in his night time excursions that his thoughts were the loudest away from people and stresses, and when he up-took the routine days ago, he was pleased to find that that was still the case. There was just something so serene and pure about watching the blanket of stars twinkle and shift and waiting for his thoughts to seek out him, not the other way around. It calmed him.

"You should be sleeping."

The statement was simple enough, but Yuri knew that it was saturated with another dozen questions that Otabek has wanted answers to but denied them by Yuri himself. He decided to not answer. The silence stretched. Until it broke.

"Yuri I'm not going to let you self destruct again. I've noticed your lack of appetite and therefore avoidance of meals. I've noticed your lack of sleeping, lack of training, of, to say it plainly, living. You do what you must, but nothing more. And it has to stop."

"I'm not self destructing, Otabek, so you can stop worrying." Yuri grumbled stubbornly. Otabek sighed and Yuri could clearly envision him rolling his eyes like he almost certainly was at this point.

"That's a lie, and we both know it." It was not an accusation, but a statement. Yuri wanted to ignore the truth more than anything, but he was the one that was the most knowledgeable of the fact that he was self destruction. It's what he always does when things turn to such shit, so he can't even be surprised. Not that he was. The two of them both knew what was happening and while Yuri never even tried to fix it--certain that it simply  _couldn't_ be--Otabek always did.

"Look at that one," Otabek said, reaching up and pointing to a shooting star streaking across the sky. Yuri smiled, feeling something warm in his chest at the knowledge of everything that was behind and not said in that simple sentence.

Maybe not all at once, but he did.

* * *

"He has a real chance of living through this, more than I think any of us hoped. As I started to tell Yuri, when the General stabbed Yuuri, the sword completely destroyed his one kidney, and we had to remove it because we were afraid that if we left it it would ultimately kill him in the end. That in itself was risky and we are waiting to see how his body adapts to accustom the loss, including if he could overcome the absence of a significant amount of blood. We gave him stitches on his most pressing gashes and cuts, addressed his burns, and iced his bruises, but right now, we just have to wait. We've given him the medicine we can and a generous amount of pain killers but now we are just waiting to see if and when he wakes up."

When Mila was finished, Viktor steepled his fingers, deep in thought.

"So," Viktor didn't look up, he kept his gaze down and on his hands. "how do you propose we get him to wake up? I'm sure that if he was conscious for the rest of his recovery things would go smoother, would they not?"

Mila sighed and rubbed her temple. "Yes, if Yuuri was awake we would be able to do more for him, namely, give him a more accurate medical support instead of the generalized one that he has. He would be able to tell us his symptoms and that would help us try and improve his chances of survival. How we can wake him up, is something that I do not know the answer to." Mila crossed one leg over the other. "After sufficient trauma it is common for the human mind to call for basically a body-wide shut down in an effort to repair physical and mental damage, and process the information that the brain received. We have employed multiple ways to try and recover Yuuri, but like you, those avenues did not bear fruit. I think at this point we have to wait for Yuuri to wake himself. And I'm not sure we can sufficiently help him until then."

"That sounds to me like you are giving up."

"Viktor, he's my friend too; I wouldn't give up on him, I'm just saying that I physically can't help him any more than I already have. Besides that point, he's my patient and the world to Yura, and therefore, one of my top priorities. I can't help it if he won't respond to any of the ways I know that can even remotely try and awaken a comatose patient."

Viktor gave her a faint, apologetic smile and reached over to squeeze her hand. "I know I'm sorry I didn't mean that I just.....I'm worried about him."

Mila nodded and Chris hummed in agreement.

"We all are," he said, his voice just as smooth and deep as Viktor remembered. It was probably his favorite sound since waking up and Viktor had this strange feeling that he wouldn't tire of it. Chris shifted uncomfortably, looking over at Mila with a silent question in his eyes. Her gaze darkened as a sadness stretched between them. 

"Chris? What is it?" Viktor asked cautiously. 

"Should we tell him?" Chris ignored Viktor's question. For now.

Mila nodded. "We should."

* * *

Viktor didn't fight back the tears as he scooped up a handful of the ashes that were scattered about. He would imagine that there would have been more, but considering the amount of time that had passed and the gentle winds that had been nonstop for a few days, Viktor wasn't surprised that all but a light dusting survived.

It was remarkable, the hole that Michele left behind. 

Viktor had seen in his friends faces--at how they always looked as if they were trying incredibly hard to forget something--in their stooped and pained stances, and in the fact that he hadn't seen Sara at all, Viktor just didn't know how to put all of the pieces together to form the right picture. He had thought it was just a resulting misery from the ambush, but now he knew the real reason. It was grief.

Some of his tears dripped down into the ashes in his hand and Viktor laughed. It was the kind of laugh that bubbled up inside and pushed trough your lips before you even knew what was happening, possibly a bit insane, possibly a bit from shock, but drenched in emotion so thick that it had only one way to go: out. So he laughed for the few seconds that he was able to before a sob choked his windpipe and the laugh died. Viktor fell to his knees and hunched over as the grief took hold. The ashes in his hand fluttered away. Tears left salty trails on his face and before long, they started to sting, he was crying so hard. Viktor covered his face with his hands, the sobs shaking his whole body.

Michele, gods, Michele, too young, too spirited, too noble, too  _dead._

The thought did nothing but make his heart twist painfully in his chest. 

Arms circled his shoulders and Viktor knew that they belonged to his lover, Chris, who had carried him here since Viktor was too weak physically to carry himself. But in all honestly, even if he wasn't injured, Viktor doubted whether or not he would even have the strength to stand. Viktor didn't take comfort in Chris' presence. It only made him cry harder.

Gods, no wonder he hadn't seen Sara, she must be a wreck from losing her brother. Viktor didn't blame her for that. The two siblings were closer than any two people Viktor had encountered, including lovers and mates, families and friends. It must have killed her.

 _He died protecting Sara....Michele, he's dead....a sword struck him down....dead....dead....dead...._ Pieces of the explanation Viktor received from Mila and Chris floated in his head, out of order and lacking any sense. He had cried then, he was crying now, and he will certainly cry harder in the future. 

"Shhh amour, let it out, I'm here." Chris whispered into his ear, pulling Viktor into his lap. Viktor didn't struggle, only buried his head into Chris' collarbone and sobbed.

* * *

 

**Two days later....**

 

Yuri looked down at the sleeping figure in the cot. It had been Otabek's idea for him to come here, and for once, Yuri didn't protest. He shouldn't have stayed away for so long. It may have hurt, but if the worst came to fruit then the pain and regret would become unbearable. 

Yuri sat down in the chair next to the cot. The nurses and doctors had since stopped using the curtain to separate Yuuri from Viktor and the rest of the medical ward because Viktor now knew about Yuuri and his state of possible-if-not-certain recovery, but now it was drawn across again, creating a small world where there was only Yuuri and Yuri. Yuri and Yuuri.

But as Yuri looked down at the ashen pallor of his love, the black locks of hair, the sunken features, Yuri could feel his heart twist. He couldn't do this, he couldn't. Yuri stood and gripped the curtain tight enough for blotches of white to appear on his knuckles. He can't, but he will. For Yuuri. He can pretend for Yuuri.

After regaining his seat, Yuri didn't say a word, didn't move, barely breathed, but looked, and continued like that for a while, valiantly keeping up the effort, but in the end, failing to keep his distance because Yuri had always been a horrible actor and no matter how far he ran and no matter how hard he fought the urge to submerge himself in the miracle that is Yuuri, Yuri could never stay away. He's known it for a while. So the paper-thin walls Yuri instinctively put up around him once Yuuri fell to keep Yuri away and safe from the possible end crumbled and Yuri was clutching Yuuri's hand, carding his fingers through his black, black hair, hands shaking.

"I-I'm sorry I stayed away, Y-Yuuri, but I;m h-here now and I swear to the gods i-if you leave m-me I'll k-kick y-our ass!" Yuri's voice wasn't any higher than and whisper and by the end of it he was crying heavily, a few sobs tumbling out.

Yuri ended up talking to deaf ears throughout the night, relaying stories of his childhood and the favorite moments that the two of them shared. When Mila came to check up on Yuuri the following morning, she smiled at the sight of Yuri asleep and hopelessly tangled with the omega on the bed.

* * *

 

**Nine days later....**

 

The repairs to the palace were well under way and more was getting done that Yuri could ever have been hoping for in the amount of time that was traveling by. He was speaking to a carpenter when Mila ran up to him, seizing his arm and dragging him away at a furious pace. Yuri tried to yank his arm out of the steel-like grip but Mila only shouted her excuse and Yuri didn't need to hear any more, willingly sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him.

* * *

Yuuri blinked, trying to cast away the fuzzy blanket that seemed to settle over his vision. His head hurt and....fuck, so did his whole body. His stomach seemed as if it was on fire, his deeply unsteady heartbeat pounding in his ears. Yuuri tried to think back to what was happening before he woke up here, but he couldn't remember, memories blurry. And....where was "here"?

Yuuri tried to voice his question to the nurse bending over him but his voice wouldn't work. Was he mute? Why was the room spinning so much? Yuuri pressed his eyes closed in an effort to regain his already undoubtedly horrible composure. Let's see, he was running, there was fire, a man? And then pain....lots of pain....and nothing. Faintly, Yuuri heard footsteps approaching him at a rapid pace so he reopened his eyes, trying to search for where the sound was coming from. Before he could successfully determine who was striding towards him, two bodies were leaning over his prone figure, looking down. Who were th-

_YURI!_

With a jolt and the sight of a deeply familiar face memories came rushing back. Yuuri gasped and tried to reach for his lover, almost crying when he realized that he was too weak. Yuri didn't keep him waiting though, because all at once he was leaning down and they were crashing together. Yuri's strong alpha arms were around him and his lips were furiously pressed up against Yuuri's, choking on words of love and of relief. And Yuuri struggled to keep up with the rush of emotions and the movement of his lips but he didn't care. He tasted salt but didn't know who was crying. And he didn't  _care._

_He was **alive.**_

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOPE!
> 
> so anyways, I'm hoping that you guys liked this chapter, bc I didn't. I don't know, just the flow and the words and everything felt wrong to me and I struggled to make the sadness in this real bc life is finally turning around for me and not this hole of hell anymore. Like, I got my ears pierced again (!!!) which I've been wanting for ever, my broken ribs? Healed. My leg? I'm getting the cast off pretty soon. And to make maters even better, I'm actually super psyched bc my birthday is tuesday!!! *keyboard smashing from excitement* I'm just so excited and happy I can't write angst correctly in this state, forgive me.
> 
> (didn't mean to ramble there, whoops)
> 
> so moving forward, there is totally going to be more happiness! I hope you enjoy!!!!
> 
> (of course this isn't edited you guys should know me by now)


	20. Recovery Is More That Physical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who's got writer's block? Meeeee! Yay!  
> (sorry if this is more of a load of crap than usual I re-wrote this 9 times ((I'm not joking I counted I swear))and I'm still not happy with this but I want to give you guys an update bc you deserve updates and it's been way too long and I'm so sorry that this story has been neglected) (sorry if this hurts to read)

Viktor poked Yuuri's cheek. It had been nearly two weeks since Yuuri had first woken up, and today was the day that the medical ward was finally letting Viktor go, happy with his recovery. Viktor got no response other than a twitch. He poked him again. And again. And Again.

"Yuuri, come  _on,_ I know you're awake!" Viktor whined, draping himself dramatically over Yuuri's chest. This time he got the reaction he wanted and Yuuri sputtered with the abrupt weight increase, his eyes snapping open and a gasp of surprise escaping his mouth. Yuuri tried to shove Viktor off, even though at full strength the action might as well have been useless. 

"Fine fine I'm awake! I'm awake!"

"Good," Viktor hummed, not bothering to move.

"Viktor get off!" Yuuri started laughing, and Viktor could feel the action throughout his whole body it seemed. Even before this whole tragedy, Yuuri's laugh was mainly rare, so it easily held it's magical novelty. Of course, when Yuri returned from the war Yuuri became a bright ball of sunshine, his smile almost a permanent feature. Many nights his laugh could be heard ringing through several rooms in the palace. But Viktor would never forget when he had heard about Yuuri's condition. It had seemed dire enough to him, a man with no medical background, and he felt nauseated at the thought that he would possibly have to live the rest of his life without that smile or laugh, without the shy jokes and sunny personality. It had tore a hole in his chest, and that hole grew into an abyss at the reminder that Michele had already died. The death of Yuuri was more than possible at this point.

So Viktor didn't blame himself when he seemed to be uncontrollably more clingy than normal. Well, at least he wasn't the only one.

"Alright you big oaf, get off of him," Yuri grumbled behind Viktor. Viktor smirked to himself. Yuri had been spending all of his free time next to Yuuri's bedside, regardless if Yuuri was awake or not. His vigil was adorable.

Viktor rolled off of Yuuri before turning around and pulling Yuri into a hug, although it wasn't just to annoy the young ruler; Viktor hadn't just been clingy with Yuuri. 

"Oi! That doesn't mean attack me, stupid!" Yuri yelled, pulling away and taking a few steps back to ensure he was out of Viktor's grasp, glaring. Viktor didn't let it phase him, but he wanted to see how far he could push this charade. 

"Yuuri!" He whined facing the recovering omega on the bed. "Tell Yuri to give me a hug! He'e being mean!"

Viktor could feel Yuri's murderous gaze practically boring a hole into his back, but didn't even spare him a glace, working hard to keep his snickers inside. If Yuuri relented and asked Yuri to, Yuri would, no matter how he felt about it, he was just that devoted to every word Yuuri said. 

Yuuri chuckled and patted Viktor's arm in comfort.

"Sorry, Viktor, this is between you and Yura, and I'm not putting myself in the middle."

To try and play it up, Viktor sighed dramatically and put a hand on his heart as if to say he was crushed.

"And to think about all of the fun times we shared, laying in our beds next to each other! All of the jokes and laughs. I thought I was loved!"

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. "I hope you aren't talking about all of those 'jokes' you made at my expense? Hmm?"

"Teasing, Yuuri! That was teasing!" Viktor sputtered, scandalized. Yuuri laughed again, and this time it was even more whole-hearted than the last, his whole body nearly shaking with giggles at Viktor's antics. Viktor dropped the act and stood, smiling to himself. He turned back to Yuri and gestured to the bed happily as if to say,  _look what I did!_ Yuri rolled his eyes, but there was a faint grin pulling at his lips.

"Alright, get your ass out of here. You've been living with him for the past few weeks and now it's my turn. Shoo! Out! Or I'll kick it out myself!"

"You're here so often that I'm sure it would be easier if you just moved your quarters here!" Viktor scoffed before Yuri did, in fact, grab his shoulders and push him away. At that, Viktor relented, accepting defeat. He could always come back here and cheer Yuuri up.  _Besides, I've got an alpha of my own._

Chris was on duty at the moment, helping with the rebuilding, making sure people carried out their proper jobs, training recruits, and busy with other smaller tasks. As far as Viktor knew, his shift for the day would end in a few hours, enough time to do a little adventuring with his newfound freedom. Viktor was a few steps away when he heard Yuri call out to him and relay a message from Chris himself, warning Viktor that if he did anything stupid to injure himself again he would regret it.

"And that comes from me too! We can't spend the rest of out lives patching up your wounds!" Yuri added for god measure.

Viktor smiled. It was good to be back.

* * *

Sara was still in bed. She had skipped breakfast and lunch, and in keeping with her usual trend, dinner would be either something small to keep herself from feinting or nothing at all. It was just how things worked nowadays. 

She could feel own body weakening with the lack of exercise, food and proper care, but she couldn't bring herself to think twice about it. She could feel her soul withering, but she didn't dare try and patch up the gaping wound in it. She knew why there was damage, and knew what was needed to fix it, but the remedy was no longer. Her brother was no longer. 

The fleeting thought was like a knife through the heart, and she pushed it away as fast as she could, and as fast as she could to minimize the damage. But a thought is a hard thing to control. 

Sara started to think about the small insignificant things in life to distract herself. The color of her blanket, the faint smell of cooking fires, what she ate--or didn't eat--for lunch.

She was fine, she was fine, she was fine, she wa-

"Sara?" A soft voice asked. Sara didn't answer in any way except turn around so she was facing away from the intruder of her depression. She prayed for them to go away.

The bed dipped and a cool hand rested itself on her shoulder. The touch simultaneously burned and grounded her. She wasn't sure if her wanted to lean into it or jerk away, assuming she had the strength and energy to do so in the first place.

"Have you eaten anything today? Gotten out of bed?"

Ah, it was Mila then. She always came around pretty frequently and asked her things like that. Sara wouldn't answer, of course, and normally Mila would sit on the chair next to the bed and talk about her day, leaving when she had to go and help in the medical ward or spend time with Otabek. She would always leave something small and light to eat behind, within easy reach of the bed, and Sara would almost always ignore it. It would be gone before she woke up again.

Sticking to her usual pattern with things, Sara did not answer the questions, just staying silent. Mila sighed and removed her hand, but not her perch on the bed.

"Sara, look what you're doing to yourself. Do you think Michele would want this? What would he say if he could see you now? I can guarantee it would break his heart."

The words had good intentions, that much was clear, but they ripped the wound on her soul even further. She knew Mila was right. She knew that if Michele were to see her like this he would raise hell and drag her out from her depression with his bare hands, forcing her to eat and sleep properly, to get out and step into the sunlight. She knew, gods did she know. But she couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to move and care for her body and mind in the only healthy way like she usually did. She couldn't not without Michele by her side. Because life without her brother just wasn't.....life.

"I can't."

They were the first words that Sara had spoken in ages, and her voice was hard and tired sounding, creaky from the lack of use. But there was a sea of emotion behind them, and she didn't try and guard it.

"Sara, you're tearing yourself apart. You aren't eating, or talking, or even getting out of bed! This isn't healthy!" What started out as soft words ended up as a near shout. Sara shrunk away from the words, trying to push away the volume of them and what they were trying to say. It was impossible to do it totally.

Mila sighed.

"I didn't mean to raise my voice, I'm sorry. But Sara, please, you're wasting away." The words were a whisper. Thankfully, they were easy to ignore as long as Sara detached herself. As long as she pretended that she wasn't ignoring her best friend. And as long as she was pretending that that action didn't hurt.

The rest of Mila's visit passed with the same transition of events that had become routine to the both of them. And like usual, she always found herself wishing Mila stayed, but not bothering to speak.

* * *

Yuuri had given up trying to stop the grin from spreading across his features. They were bound to get caught, that was for sure, but he still didn't care in the slightest. 

Yuuri was draped over Yuri's back as the older male carried him in a piggy-back ride, only using one hand to support Yuuri's weight with ease. Yuri had proposed the idea right away after Viktor had left earlier on in the day, and Yuuri had agreed with no hesitation. It had been ages since he had been able to get out of the bed and breathe in air that wasn't stale. 

Yuuri could have walked, if he really tried and they took it slow, but his body was still weak and Yuri, as adorable and worried as he is, refused to do anything but carry him

Night had fallen, and the air was warm enough to stop the breeze from chilling the skin, the air sweet and crisp in its freshness. Yuuri leaned down, laying his arms around Yuri's neck and burying his head into the crook of the blond's shoulder, breathing in his scent. Yuri let out a rumble at the action but still walked on, a destination obviously in mind. Eventually, they stopped, and Yuri nudged the passenger on his back.

"We're here," he said softly.

Yuri helped Yuuri down onto the grass, keeping a hand around his waist to support him. They were far enough away from everyone else that they wouldn't be seen too easily due to a patch of trees blocking prying eyes. Lightly pulling him down, Yuri laid on the grass and Yuuri followed suit with slightly uncoordinated and wobbly legs. Yuuri gasped when he saw the stars laid out above them in a dense blanket, covering every swath of black noticeable to the naked eye. It was stunningly beautiful. 

"Yuri, it's.... _amazing._ " Yuuri breathed, voice an awed whisper. Yuri chuckled at the sight and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend's waist, pulling him closer so their sides were flushed together. Yuuri started pointing out constellations left and right, naming ones that Yuri had never even heard of, drawing the eye to dozens of shapes that danced across the night sky.

"Oh, and there's Ophiuchus, the serpent bearer. And over there, no Yuri look farther to the right. No, the  _right-_ Yuri I swear you're doing this on purpose!" Yuuri sighed in faux annoyance to cover up the giggle bubbling in his chest, trying to stop a smile of creeping up on his features at Yuri feigning innocence.

"I have no idea what you're talking about I'm paying attention!"

"No you aren't!"

"I am!"

"Prove it. Name the last constellation that I said." Yuuri was leaning up on is elbow now, looking down at the blond with a raised eyebrow and a fond grin. They both knew that Yuri couldn't prove what Yuuri was asking.

Yuri frowned and stuck out his tongue after a moment of desperate searching through his memories. "I don't even know why I like you you're so mean."

There was a moment of silence before they both burst out laughing.

" _I'm_ mean?" Yuuri cried, his cheeks starting to hurt from the wide smile on his face.

"Yes, yes you are! And if any of the others knew ho-mhf!" 

Yuri was cut off by the press of lips against his and that was it. His brain just....shut off. Yes, they had kissed before since Yuuri had awoken. Yes, they had kissed an innumerable amount of times before the attack had even happened. They had even had sex. But Yuri didn't  _care._ He had come so so unbelievably close to losing Yuuri completely, and now, to have him in his arms under the starlight, feeling that small little smile pressed up to Yuri's lips in the kiss was everything to the alpha. 

So with remarkable ease, Yuri slid Yuuri on top of him and kept his hands on the dip of Yuuri's waist as they kissed. Slow, sweet, sensual. They were the only two people in the world in that moment and neither of them would rather have it any other way.

And maybe things got heated--the kisses growing steamier and hotter as time went on. And maybe they had to stop to avoid what would result in the continuation of walking down that path because _gods no_ they wouldn't do anything like that in the middle of plain sight on the grass, especially while Yuuri was still weak. And maybe they did end up leaving because the temperature was starting to sink as the night wore on and they hadn't brought a blanket, but it was worth it. All worth it.

* * *

 

**Nine days later.....**

 

Yuuri found himself melting into his cot as Yuri kissed him, slow and gentle, sucking at his bottom lip. They were both crowded onto Yuuri's small one-person bed, on their sides, facing one another. This position was far from uncommon in the two weeks that Yuuri had been recovering, but they hadn't really kissed, as crazy as it sounded. The entire two weeks had comprised of Yuri cuddling him and asking if he was alright virtually every minute they spent together (which he would viciously deny if anyone asked him), which Yuuri certainly didn't mind. He had been struggling to feel completely safe since returning to consciousness, nightmares unfolding in the late hours of the night and a feeling of paranoia settle in his bones, but the greatest medicine for his worries was his Yura.

However, Yuuri had tried to initiate a few kisses in the past fortnight, craving a little affection, only to be met with a wide-eyed Yuri, who gently refused anything more than a simple "hello" or "goodbye" kiss, stating that he didn't want to accidentally worsen Yuuri's condition. The fear was not completely irrational and Yuuri could definitely see where the blond was coming from, but it wasn't like Yuuri was asking for sex. He knew better than anyone that he would not even be able to try and pull off sex, especially since he spent most of his time sleeping due to his body's almost constant exhaustion. Granted, he was now able to stay up for much longer periods of time, but that aspect of their relationship would have to wait.

He had accepted his failed attempts at initiating the almost lazy make-out sessions that he and Yuri used to have before the attack, where they would spend who-knows-how-long curled up together, moving their mouths together and apart, drinking up the sensation of each other. Yuuri had figured that he would just have to wait until he was deemed "all better" via Mila for their little kisses to continue, so he was definitely more than surprised when Yuri had slotted himself so closely to Yuuri and kissed him without a single prompt.

But he  _definitely_ wasn't complaining.

Yuri hummed against his lips and let go of Yuuri's bottom lip, using his tongue to prod at Yuuri's closed mouth, asking for entrance. Yuuri obliged hastily, opening his mouth wide and letting his Yuri explore. The kiss deepened naturally, Yuri's left hand curled around the back of Yuuri's neck and his right hooked around Yuuri's waist, his palm reaching up and settling on his back, warm fingers spread out in the space between Yuuri's shoulder blades. Gods, has he missed this, this feeling of losing himself so completely in his lover, feeling so safe and warm and protected. He could live in this moment forever.

After pressing a kiss to the corner of Yuuri's mouth, Yuri pulled back just enough to put the barest hint of space between them, but close enough that they still shared each other's breaths. Yuri lazily opened his eyes, lids slightly downcast, pupils a bit wider than normal in a potent concoction of lust an love. Yuuri met his gaze readily, studying the intense greens swirling around his pupil. His eyes were gorgeous. 

"How are you?" Yuri asked so softly that Yuuri was certain that if he hadn't been held so closely he wouldn't have heard. Yuuri loved how he always scraped away his rough exterior and let Yuuri see all of the gentle parts of himself that he doesn't showcase, and now was no different.

Yuuri hummed, snuggling closer and tucking his head under Yuri's chin, breathing in his scent deeply. "I'm good, great actually." Yuuri blushed and he knew that Yuri could feel the sudden heat against his skin. "Especially since you're here," he added.

"You're so cheesy," Yuri grumbled, but his pleased rumble gave away his true feelings.

"You love it."

"Tch."

Yuri's mouth twitched as they leaned in, the fake frown already starting to melt, disappearing completely when their lips slotted together. This kiss was slow and sweet and sensual, turning Yuuri's insides to putty. The next time they came up for air, Yuri pulled back a little more, insisting once again on not overdoing anything. And like always, Yuuri answered him with little sounds of protest and a few giggles of  _of course you aren't pushing anything, Yura,_ but he wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

 Yuuri pushed past the flaps of the tent, squinting involuntarily at the sudden darkness. Sara was huddled under the covers in a tired-looking lump, not moving and not facing him. She gave no indication that she heard him enter.

Biting his lip, Yuuri crept forward, quiet but letting his presence be easily known. Yuuri let the small barriers that he still hosted far away, leaving him completely bare and as vulnerable as he could make himself at the moment in her presence. She wouldn't even have to look hard to know exactly what was going on in his head. 

"Sara?" He asked softly, sitting on the floor near the bed. He didn't touch her, recalling how he didn't want to be touched when he had fist come into the palace so so long ago in his depressed state, right on the verge of suicide. Not that that was what was wrong with Sara, he just thought that the gesture of trying to keep her comfortable would be welcome. Fuck, he was overthinking things. 

He turned his attention back to Sara. This was about her, not him. This was about helping her feel better. 

"I know you're awake, but it's okay if you don't want to talk to me." 

And so Yuuri told her stories. They just kind of spilled out of him like water bubbling over a pot. They were small things about his childhood like Mari's favorite color and why at one point they had a sick falcon as a pet for about a week. They were about little moments between he and Yuri, the best jokes Viktor had told him, and the times when Chris had tried to teach Yuuri basic sword technique and Yuuri had gotten it all backwards. They were all the times Mila and Sara herself patched up Yuuri's wounds--both big and small--and all of the times that they had berated him for his lack of attention to his health. They were the secret smiles he and Phichit had shared and Michele's cooking tips. 

By the end of it Yuuri felt squeezed, and he wasn't sure if it was in a good way or bad one. But in his monologue Sara had turned around in bed and Yuuri hadn't noticed. Now that he had fallen silent though, their eyes met.

Her normally bright eyes were dull and lifeless, bags hanging under them. Yuuri smiled, and it was genuine. Because she was looking at him and she did it without prompt.

"Hi," he said dumbly, mentally kicking himself after the word passed by his lips. Could he be any stupider?

She didn't say anything, but she also didn't turn away again, and Yuuri took that as a sign that he was doing something right, even though he had no idea what that might have been.

"I know you aren't okay, so I'm not even going to bother asking something like that," he started, "but I do want you to know that I'm here for you. We all are." Yuuri scooted closer, eyes silently asking for permission. When Sara didn't flinch away, Yuuri took that as a sign of approval and crawled up into the bed, cuddling up next to her. Yuuri knew that time spent alone between two or more omegas was extremely beneficial to all parties involved, and he immediately felt a deep instinctual pleasure at the cuddles. Based off of the way Sara relaxed, she felt it too. 

"I know what you're going through, I promise. My sister, my parents, all died, my sister to protect me. I know how it feels to want to give up. I know how right now it seems that getting out of bed and doing something as small as eating is too exhausting to try and bother with, and I know how much you are hurting right now Sara, believe me. But also believe me when I say that I won't let you get as bad as I did. I'm sorry that you sank this far already, and I am so so sorry that I was unaware of how horrible you were feeling up until now. 

"I'm here, Sara, I'm here and so is Mila and Yuri and Chris and Otabek and Viktor. We're all here for you."

At this point, Sara had started to cry, and when Yuuri fell silent, an arm pulling her close, she started to sob and clutched at Yuuri's shirt, soaking it in her anguish. Yuuri let her cry. She needed it. If she was reacting to the circumstances anything like how Yuuri had before then she had been bottling it all up inside, letting her depression grow with no outlet for it to diminish. This was just letting the tide flow.

When her tears ebbed, Yuuri was still holding her. 

"It's not going to be a perfect fix, and it won't be easy, but you can do it, Sara, I know you can and Michele knew it too, that's why he left; because he knew that you were strong enough to survive this."

At that Sara started to cry again, but the sobs were less forced and they weren't overflowing with repressed emotions. They were just sad and regretful. 

Soon enough, Sara had once again calmed down and they settled into silence. Time passed and Yuuri didn't know how much, but then he was slowly sitting up and gently having her come with, until they were both upright. Smiling widely at her, Yuuri retrieved the neglected hairbrush tossed off to the side and worked at untangling her hair, rubbing her back and murmuring words of encouragement at the same time. 

Yuuri purposely took the process slow to try and avoid any chance of making her feel overwhelmed.

"Do you think I...." she trailed off, her voice low and a little scratchy. Yuuri just hummed, encouraging her silently. "Things could....I mean....could they, do you think, get....better? I don't-I don't want to feel like this anymore."

"I know it will."

* * *

Chris leaned back in his chair, casually sipping from his glass of wine as he watched Viktor tell one of his usual tall tales. Viktor was talking more with his hands than his mouth, so the majority of the story was told with large sweeping motions of arms, hands flailing, and fingers splayed in all directions. The spectacle was certainly interesting to watch.

The table was pushed off to the side, underneath a torch hanging from the wall in the (mostly) rebuilt Great Hall. Almost everyone had already eaten at this point, so more than three quarters of the giant room was cast in darkness and less than half a dozen other people were at the tables besides them. However, the fact that the night was firmly settled in at this point seemed to escape their minds at least, for the time being. 

"Viktor, that doesn't even make  _sense!_ "

"It's a story and I'm the storyteller so it doesn't have to make sense to  _you,_ only to  _me._ "

"Well then what's the  _fucking point_ of telling a story if the listener can't understand a  _fucking thing?_ "

"It's  _my_ _story!_ "

The rest of the table, at this point, was laughing at the antics of the two cousins. Even Otabek, who's happy face was a joyous and bubbly stoic, had his mouth upturned in a grin, one arm around Mila's waist. 

Movement caught the corner of Chris' vision and he turned his head towards the doorway where a sleepy-looking Yuuri and a disgruntled Sara were shuffling through the doorway and into the Great Hall, leaning on each other. Yuuri caught Chris' eye and nodded, smiling.

"Sara," Chris called, making his voice light and inviting, "come over here, you're missing out on Viktor's story." 

"Yeah, and what a fucking  _wonderfully idiotic_ story it actually is. Seriously, leave while you can and spare yourself the torture." Yuri interjected in his usual brash tone. Immediately Chris felt his alpha instincts kick in at what he thought was Yuri not accepting Sara back into their group. Chris wanted to slap him. Why would he possibly even  _think_ about acting that way around Sara? Was he brain-dead? Did he happen to forget that her brother literally died to save her? Maybe a little compassion and soft words would have been nice!

Chris spun around to Yuri's direction and opened his mouth, ready to have the blond shut up for the moment, when Sara spoke. Her voice was a bit rough--most likely from a lack of use and some-what recent crying--and had a trace of melancholy in it, but there was a significant ring of happiness in it. The sound shocked Chris.

"Is it really that terrible, or are you just complaining like you normally do?"

At first, there was silence, possibly from the collective shock of hearing Sara's voice, possibly from the playful insult, or maybe possibly even both. Mila was the first to break the quiet, bursting out in laughter, a grin splitting her mouth wide. Within seconds, the rest of the table besides Yuri had joined her in her amusement. Yuri still had his usual scowl, especially sharpened at the taunt, but there was a twinkle in his eye that wasn't before and Chris just  _knew_ that it was due to the response he got from Sara.

After all, they had lost Michele and thought that they were losing Sara too. 

Maybe Yuri was on to something, acting like his usual self. 

"Alright, alright, it wasn't that funny you pricks," Yuri grumbled, failing to stop the faint smile from gracing his features as Yuuri sat next to him on the bench, Sara in between the omega and Mila. Yuri slipped an arm around Yuuri's waist and tugged so their bodies were flush with each other as discreetly as possible, but Chris saw the action from his vantage point across the table and judging from the pleased inhale from Viktor, so did he.

Sara wasn't anywhere near as vocal as she had been at meals or any time for that matter as before, choosing to really only talk when necessary, and smiling at a few of the jokes presented. But it was enough. No, more than enough. It was spectacular to find her interacting with the living once again, and Chris had to remember to thank Yuuri up and down for coaxing her to give up her self-condemning anguish.

Within an hour, Sara had willingly eaten a decently-sized portion of food and was dozing off on the table, her head resting under her arm. Her face was calm and relaxed, almost serene as she straddled on the brink of consciousness and slumber. Mila brushed the hair our of her face.

"I should get her in bed before she really falls asleep. Otabek, will you help me?" 

Otabek slipped his hand into hers and squeezed, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling away, "Of course,"

He lifted Sara with ease--she had always been small, and with her recent abstaining from proper eating habits, she was even skinnier--and carried her out with Mila on his trail, calling a 'goodnight' behind them. 

Afterwards, things definitely calmed down at the table. Before another hour was up, Chris was standing, draining the last of his wine in one large gulp before lacing his fingers with Viktor's and pulling the silver-haired man to his feet. 

"Night, Yuuri, Yura," Viktor called. Chris hummed in agreement, meeting Yuuri's eyes and trying to express how grateful he was that he had gotten Sara moving. Yuuri smiled in understanding. 

When they exited the Great Hall, however, Chris's agenda changed and he slid a hand around Viktor's waist and down, so his palm was resting just slightly above Viktor's butt. Viktor smirked, throwing the alpha a saucy grin before turning back around and walking with his head facing the proper direction this time. He allowed Chris to guide them both in a slightly different direction towards Chris' sleeping tent instead of Viktor's. Viktor did not comment on the sudden change in direction. 

"Do you have  _any idea_ how painfully lonely and quiet my tent was while you weren't with me?" Chris asked, his voice low, almost a growl, breath hot against Viktor's ear.

Viktor shivered and it wasn't from the mild chill in the air.

"I'd certainly have a good guess as to just how  _lonely-_ " Viktor gracefully moved his hand to the left a little more, his knuckles just barely disturbing the material in front of Chris' crotch. His breath hitched despite himself; gods, Viktor probably knew exactly how much he was affecting Chris right now. "-you were without me. Lucky for you, I'm here now, so you definitely won't be lonely tonight."

The warmth radiating off of Viktor's hand was suddenly gone and Chris found himself missing it. He cursed Viktor under his breath for being such a flirt and picked up the pace, determined to reach his where he slept within the next minute. Gods, did he miss Viktor.

When they finally (thank gods) arrived, Chris claimed Viktor's lips the second they had their privacy, moving his mouth with Viktor's, sensations exploding through his skull. Viktor laughed as Chris frog marched them both backwards until Viktor fell back onto the bed, Chris taking a few seconds to admire the delicious way Viktor's shirt hiked up, exposing a bit of skin, and how his hair fanned out in a halo surrounding his head before joining his love on the bed. Their bodies were flush against each other, chests heaving, stealing each other's breaths as they left their bodies, lips moving in a dance of their own

Viktor's shirt was discarded first and with it's disappearance, Chris' hands were suddenly everywhere, dragging up and down Viktor's strong body, mapping out all of the dips and curves of the muscle adorning his figure, pressing kisses into the flesh as he moved, a trail of purple hickeys in his wake. Viktor let out a moan, hooking a leg up and over Chris' body on top of his and pulling, switching their positions. From his new vantage point, Viktor grinned, grinding down a little with his hips.

"Tease," Chris growled, thrusting a hand up and pulling Viktor down by the back of his neck for a kiss. Their lips met abruptly, and a wave of arousal flashed through Chris' system. Gods, did he love this man. Chris deepened the kiss, and it was like fire. He never wanted to stop.

Later that night, when Viktor was tucked up against him, sleeping soundly, Chris smiled to the darkness. For the last few fleeting moments of consciousness he pushed away the flashes of new memories from tonight, the sight of Viktor and how fucked-out he looked after his orgasm, his throaty moans. Chris shook his head with a slight chuckle and pressed a sleepy kiss to Viktor's forehead.

Despite all of the loss, guilt, grief, and anguish they were faced with, they had prevailed. They would make it. All of them. 

Chris smiled before falling asleep, feeling lighter than he had since the ambush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys know that I feel HORRIBLE for not being able to give this to you all sooner, because you guys deserve regular updates, but between my sudden writer's block and high school starting again I couldn't get back into writing, and writing anything, at that. 
> 
> But.
> 
> Things are under control now, and I've re-adapted to the stress of American High School (which, by the way, is NOTHING like High School Musical, that movie lied to 7-year-old-me) so the next (and final!) chapter of this story will not take me a month and a half like this one! In fact, I hope to have it up by the end of this weekend, or by this time next week at the latest.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I really hope that it brought some closure to the story, but left enough open for the final chapter! I can't wait to see how you guys react to the ending!! ^-^ 
> 
> I would also like to announce that in the near future, after this story is done, I will be writing a prompt that I got as a request (not Yuriyuu, just fluff and hints of angst between our podium family) and what some of you guys have been waiting for!! **The sequel to A Battle For The Heart is finally arriving!!!!!** Guys I'm so pumped!!!!
> 
> Now because the sequel for the first Yuriyuu story I did that you guys loved so much is so so close to coming about, I'm asking that you guys give me prompts or ideas of what you want to see (It can be anything!!!) because I really want to try and incorporate your ideas in the story. I'm not sure if it will be chaptered or not yet, (it'll probably depend on how many ideas I get from you guys) but it is definitely coming! I can't wait!
> 
> (if you haven't read the story I suggest it to you, because it is my most loved one and it holds a special place in my heart)
> 
> Anyways!!! Thank you all so much for all of the comments kudos and support, not to mention for still reading this even after I was AWOL for a little there!! I love you all so much!!!
> 
> ("But a thought is a hard thing to control" -James Mangold)


	21. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end!
> 
> dun dun dun DUN!
> 
>  
> 
> lowkey this chapter is dedicated to BottomNico4Life (@BottomNico4Life I'm totally calling you out and you know why you little shit)((I'm kidding you're like my favorite))

 

**Five Years Later....**

 

Yuri was going to puke, he was sure of it.

_Gods am I really doing this? Is this really happening? Shit what if-_

Yuri didn't even notice his cousin's eye roll, but when Viktor's hand clamped down on his shoulder and he squeezed comfortingly, Yuri turned his head around and looked behind him with wide eyes.

"Stop fretting so much, he can't say anything  _but_ yes, Yura, you realize this, da?"

"Of course I do," Yuri muttered, breaking his gaze with his  _annoying_ cousin, trying his hardest to keep the nervousness out of his voice. Damn, this was it, this was how it ended. He was going to die from the deep well of anxiety that seemed to settle itself in his chest.

Behind Yuri, Viktor shared a look with Chris, a light smirk and fond look coming over his features despite his mild exasperation with his younger and hot-headed cousin. He was like an angry kitten. Chris chuckled a little and shot Viktor a grin, like,  _what are you going to do?_ before reaching over and lacing Viktor's fingers with his. Viktor squeezed back; Chris' hand was always wonderfully warm.

Yuri raked his eyes down the oak door on the other side of the room one more time. The same door Yuuri would be walking out of in.....any second now, actually. Fuck. Yuri wasn't ready. Nowhere even near the idea of ready. He was going to fuck this up, he was sure.

The rest of the people in the room were chatting quietly, unknowing of their emperor's anxiety. Some of them were dripping with their finest silks and most expensive jewels, intent on trying to improve their image and possibly impress the emperor with their riches (which Yuri would forever scoff at) while some had taken a more subtle approach, aiming for a comfortable-yet-stylish medium. It didn't matter, however, to Yuri, because even under normal circumstances he wouldn't give a damn about what the members of his court and the upper class of his empire were wearing. Today, even less fucks were given from him, if possible. 

It was hot. Or was it? Was it just him? Yuri's hands were a bit shaky but his palms and the back of his neck were sweaty, and he resisted the urge to wipe his hands off on his pants. His forehead was right on the verge of breaking out into a nervous sweat, and it would have long ago if not for every fiber of his being hellbent on not making his nervousness too broadcasted. Especially because Yuuri would see him. He didn't want Yuuri to see him as nervous at a time like this. 

Chris was quietly whispering something to Viktor, and Yuri was almost paying enough attention to comprehend what they were going on about. He turned his head a little, deciding on trying to ease his frayed nerves a little by-

Yuri stopped and instantly turned straight around, once again facing the front, when out of the corner of his eye he saw the two large double-oak doors swing open on silent hinges. The guests smiled and some of the women tutted happily to themselves, standing as if they were a one singular body. Behind Yuri, Viktor muttered "Here we go," excitedly to himself. Right on time, the sole musician started to play a beautiful rendition of the  _Wedding March_ on the piano, tucked out of the metaphorical spotlight but with the perfect vantage point to take full advantage of the room's natural acoustics.  Both observations were barely even registered by Yuri, and if anything, by only his subconscious. 

From across the room Yuri could see how Yuuri smiled softly and a bit shyly at him with both his eyes and his mouth. Yuuri bit his bottom lip in just the slightest way--that Yuri found both ridiculously adorable and sexy at the same time which just wasn't  _fair,_ might he add--before lifting his chin up a little more and this time grinning in open view of the public around them.

Beside Yuuri, Otabek walked with him, Yuuri holding onto Otabek's arm like any father would normally when handing off their father or son. Viktor had volunteered for the job, but Otabek had insisted due to the fact that in the years Yuuri had become almost as dear to him as Yuri, and he wanted to be there for the both of them today as both Yuri's best man and leading Yuuri down the isle. Frankly, Yuri didn't really care if Otabek was next to his lover in this moment, but when the details for this were being finalized, Yuri had been touched by his best friend's level of commitment to the two of them--not that Yuri would ever admit it.

Yuuri was dressed in all pristine white, a stark contrast against Otabek's mainly black formal attire. Yuuri held a small bouquet of roses, the same deep crimson color as the one that the two of them exchanged years ago, back before Yuri left for war.

 _For good luck,_ Yuri thought silently with a smile to himself. 

What luck indeed.

The entire walk, their eyes stayed locked, soft, loving smiles on each of their faces. Otabek and Yuuri stepped up onto the dais that the altar was positioned on top of, Yuuri and Yuri standing together face to face, Otabek moving to the side to stand behind Yuri. Yuri could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him and he hated it, wishing that the majority of those present would fuck off and let him marry his love in private, but the workings of court and politics didn't work like that, so he had to suffer through. At least he and his friends would have a proper celebration later tonight, just the seven of them, plus Sara's boyfriend. 

Yuuri gave Yuri a look that was somewhere between pleading, loving, and nervous, and Yuri amended his past statement hastily, suddenly vehemently wanting to order everyone from the room. Yuuri must be feeling worse than he is right now, with his anxiety. Yuri reached out, grasping one of Yuuri's hands in his, dragging his thumb over Yuuri's knuckles in comfort.

Yuuri's smile became twice as genuine as before.

The priest stepped forward, his ceremonial robes glittering slightly in the light of the ballroom where the wedding was being held. 

Fuck.

The wedding.

Yuri was getting married.

To Yuuri.

Holy  _shit._

The fact that it still didn't seem real was an understatement, and the emperor had found himself having similar thoughts throughout the past few months, since the moment that Yuri had proposed. Of course, they had become much more frequent in the coming weeks, and especially in the days and hours leading up to the wedding, but none of them had hit him quite like  _this._

Yuuri's eyes were brown. But not quite. They had small flecks of red and gold in them, and sparkles dancing throughout in all of the emotions that swam through them. They were beautiful and Yuri couldn't stop staring. What was happening again? Oh yeah, he was getting married. Maybe he should pay attention, at least a little.

Trying his best to rip himself away from the weight of Yuuri's wondrous stare, Yuri tuned himself back into what the priest was saying, mentally catching himself up to what he thought he missed.

"-is the holiest, and more sacred of bonds. It is the ultimate match between man and-"

Yeah no, Yuuri's eyes were much more interesting than what this old guy was preaching about. Scratch that, everything about Yuuri was so much more interesting than the speech.

He must have lost himself once again into his thoughts, because the next thing he knew Otabek was discreetly nudging his shoulder with his own and whispering "vows," into Yuri's ear, only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

Fuck.

Yuri hadn't gone in depth enough to write it out, word for word of what he wanted to say, but he had gone over the basics with both himself and Otabek in an effort to not mess up or leave anything out, but right now, he was drawing a blank. Yuri decided to improvise and pray that it would turn out some-what decent.

"Yuuri, when I rescued you from that river years ago, I had thought that that would be the end of our involvement with each other. I would save you, you would thank me, and we would never see or hear from each other again. But then you meant something to me, and for the life of me I couldn't think of a logical reason as to why a stranger would hold such authority over my thoughts and feelings. As time passed, of course those feelings grew and grew, especially when you opened up to me little by little, allowing me to try and help you pick up the pieces of you that had broke." Yuri took a deep breath. This was getting a little cheesy, but he could be cheesy for Yuuri. He was holding Yuuri's left hand and he pressed a kiss to the knuckles beneath the pads of his fingers in both what he hoped was a loving gesture and a warrant for himself to frantically think about what to say next.

"If you had asked me then, I would have said that I cared so much because I had invested myself in you and your welfare, but I think that the true answer was a little bit of a different story." Without looking away from Yuuri's mesmerizing eyes, Yuri held out his hand. Viktor stepped forward and placed the ring in Yuri's palm, who held it with his left hand, centimeters from the tip of Yuuri's finger. "You make me laugh and I love spending time with you. And yes, sometimes we fight and don't agree, but at the end of the day I still want to wrap you up in a blanket and keep you safe from the world." With a shaking breath he pushed the metal band onto Yuuri's finger. "I don't believe in fate because frankly fate is stupid, but I do believe in the fact that I love you and that you love me, and that I want to spend every second of every day with you and in your arms. Just as I asked you before, eight months ago, with this ring, I ask you to be mine."

By the end of his speech, Yuuri had tears in his eyes and Yuri was nearly fighting back some of his own. Gods, did he love this man.

The priest gestured for Yuuri to say his vows and with a deep breath and a step forward Yuuri opened his mouth.

"For the first few years of my life, I was happy with my family, but anything that starts must end, and my happy life did. When you rescued me, the most I wanted from life was out of it; I was as good as dead. And I will admit, I wasn't the best of patients when I was recuperating from my extensive injuries here at the castle, but with how things were going, I am certain that if you hadn't so stubbornly refused to do anything but worm your way into my life, I would not still be here. You did, in fact, fix me, in more ways than I think the two of us could count, even if we tried, and for that I am more grateful than anything else I know." Yuuri's hand was hovering over Yuri's own, a ring in his hand. When had Yuuri been handed that ring? Yuri didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care.

Gods, this was all a dream, Yuri was certain. Yuuri was too perfect and adorable and Yuri felt too happy and he was gonna cry. Was he crying? He didn't know, but his face started to hurt a little at how side he was smiling.

"Everything does end, as will the two of us, but we can wait out our end together. I love you, Yura, so so much, and I never want you to forget that. With this ring, I ask you to wait out forever with me."

The metal was warm against his skin, most likely due to it being engulfed in Yuuri's undoubtedly warm palm, and the feel of it sliding over Yuri's ring finger was intense, both calming and heart-racing at the same time. Could he explain it? No. But the look in Yuuri's misty eyes and the unstoppable grin covering his mouth assured Yuri that he was not the only one who left it.

He was paying attention just enough to hear the priest finish out his piece and fully marry them.

"Emperor Yuri Plisetsky, do you take Katsuki Yuuri to be your lawfully wedded husband, omega, and consort?"

"Of course I do," Yuri said, giving Yuuri a little eye roll that was just between the two of them, saying as  _if_ he would even  _think_ about saying anything other than yes.

"And do you, Katsuki Yuuri, take Emperor Yuri Plisetsky to be your lawfully wedded husband and alpha?"

"I do."

The priest was uttering the last few words of his part of the ceremony, but Yuri had stopped listening. He took half a step forward and Yuuri met him halfway. Yuri slid his arms down as if to wrap Yuuri in a hug but claimed Yuuri's--his _husband's--_ mouth in a passionate kiss, the rest of the room melting away for a few heartbeats. They parted after a few moments and Yuri rested their foreheads against one another. Yuuri's hands were laced behind Yuri's head, on his neck, and his mouth was still in kissing distance, so Yuri leaned forward once more, although this time the kiss was softer and less of an overflow of emotions.

Yuuri had tears in his eyes and Yuri was crying himself, no matter for the fact that he had sworn up and down that he would  _not,_ and they looked at each other right in the eyes, and smiled. Yuuri giggled a little.

"Yura, you're crying," he said softly, reaching up and brushing away a few of the stray tears that had found themselves dripping down Yuri's cheeks.

"No I'm not," Yuri replied stubbornly, but they both knew that the lie wasn't meant. 

At that point Viktor crashed their momentary private bubble, hugging Yuuri and chatting excitedly to him about how happy he was that they had  _finally_ gotten married. 

Yuri was about to steal his husband--gods, he will never get tired of that word--back again when he was pulled into his own embrace, finding Otabek's arms wrapped around him. The older man was smiling widely, a rare sight for Otabek's usual stoic demeanor. 

"I'm happy for you Yura," he said with obvious pleasure in his voice, but much quieter than Viktor, who was almost shouting in his excitement. Yuri returned the wide grin his best friend was giving him.

"You don't have anything on me." 

Otabek laughed and ruffled his hair like he used to do when they were kids.

"I thought two might have never tied the knot with how long you seemed to be entertaining the idea." Yuri found himself sandwiched between Otabek and Chris, and normally this would irritate him greatly, but he was almost too happy to care, so he settled for mild annoyance. Shrugging out of Chris' grip he leveled him a halfhearted glare.

"What's that supposed to mean, asshole?"

"That means, that you two should have gotten married the second you fished Yuuri out of that river! I swear, you two may be closest couple I have ever met but you two are oblivious!"

A few minutes later, they found themselves in the Main Hall, and the feast was just beginning. Of course, Yuri and Yuuri were sitting next to each other, and when the servants started to bring out the plates heavy with food and drink, Yuuri reached over the few inches in between them and threaded their fingers together. Yuri could feel the band of metal on Yuuri's finger, and it made him smile giddily. 

"You're stuck with me now," Yuuri whispered, smirking a little. 

Yuri rolled his eyes fondly and a bit exasperatedly, kissing Yuuri sweetly on his lips.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

* * *

It wasn't meant to happen, that was for sure. One moment, they were dancing, people around them and moving to the beat of the music just like they were, and the next they were breaking away to grab a quick drink, allow themselves to rest. But then they were kissing, and Yuri didn't know who started it or who deepened it but there they were, making out in front of the empire's court, an air of sexual tension surrounding them.

And when they pulled away,  _gods,_ did it take literally everything from Yuri to control himself and fuck everyone in the ballroom over and tell them to leave because Yuuri's lips were a tad swollen and his pupils wider than the dim lighting warranted for.

Holy fuck did he want Yuuri and did he want him  _now._

Yuuri gave him that little shy smile, the one that anyone else would think of as a bit bashful and  _'did we really just do that?'_ but Yuri knew him like no other and he saw the real message, the real layers of lust and sexual desire disguised to the point where it was almost invisible. 

"Will you two stop eye-fucking each other and just get a room already?" a little more than slightly drunk Viktor whined, clunking down and bottle of vodka and collapsing into the empty chair across from the newly-wed couple. 

At this, Yuuri lengthened the distance between them a little, just enough to turn his head and playfully roll his eyes at the silver-haired man before them.

"And when will you stop downing that vodka as if it will heal your soul?" Yuri grumbled. "Not that anything could do that," he added.

"Really, just go, Viktor and I will handle the remnants of the after party," Chris chimed in. 

Thankfully, Chris was less drunk than his husband, instead nursing a small flute of champagne in his left hand. His eyes were a little cloudy and he definitely was not sober, but Chris had always been able to handle his alcohol well. Not that the sight of him did anything to help Yuri's annoyance, but the lack of being stupidly drunk was just a perk.

"Sure you will, just as soon as Viktor here is done puking up all of the alcohol and can actually form a coherent thought, I'm certain you two would be great at damage control." Yuri couldn't help the sarcasm from entering his voice, but they had been putting up with each other's shit for years and it was Yuri's wedding day goddamnit, he could bitch if he wanted to.

"Are you saying that you don't want to leave?" Chris asked, throwing all of his energy into an astonished look, hand over his heart and everything.

_That motherfucker-_

Maybe with other circumstances Yuri would have threatened to deck Chris or the very least verbally bitten his head off at what Chris was implying (even  _if_ it was true) but he didn't get the chance to due to a soft voice and a hand on his bicep interrupting.

"Yura, why don't we go? I'm sure Chris and Viktor can handle everything." 

Was Yuri shocked? Yes. Did he show it? Yes.

Yuri turned towards his husband-- _husband--_ with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Yuuri had always been a quiet and reserved person, ever since Yuri had been given the privilege to get to know him. When their relationship evolved from more than just friends, Yuuri had been reluctant on PDA but did warm up to the idea of kissing, hugging, and even Yuri's possessive holds, but he had never crossed the line to mentioning sex in public. Frankly, Yuri found the new gleam in his lover's eyes a major turn on and would have otherwise  _ran_ to the nearest exit, if it wasn't for his surprise.

"Yuuri?"

"Come on," Yuuri said with a fond smile, tugging Yuri along with him as he started to walk off. Yuri called over his shoulder for Chris to give the guests his formal thanks for attending their wedding and tried his hardest to ignore the shit-eating grin that had adorned itself over Chris' features. The bastard.

However, all of his thoughts that didn't concern Yuuri were soon wiped from his mind because yes, they don't leave for their honeymoon until tomorrow, and yes, they were running up the stairs to their chambers together, and  _yes,_ of  _course_ they locked lips as soon as the door to their bedroom shut, but Yuri didn't  _care._

So what if their honeymoon started a night early. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.

Yuri ran his hands down Yuuri's side as their mouths swirled together, the air between them charged as if with electricity. Kissing Yuuri was always like this, it seemed. Time slowed a little and his nerves were all of the sudden on fire and hyperaware of everything happening. Gods, it sounded cliche as hell when he put it like that, but frankly, Yuri was inclined to believe that cliches must be cliches for a reason if they were this relatable. Honestly, there's got to be some truth to the matter because Yuri was already struggling to find a way to describe what kissing Yuuri was like in general, and this cheesy shit was the only thing that he could come up with.

Internally, Yuri sighed before pushing away his rambling thoughts and tilting his head in the opposite direction as before, changing the angle between their mouths.

_Ah, yes, this was better, this was much better._

Rapidly, their kisses deepened to neither of their surprise. Yuuri and Yuri never had sex overly often, so while it wasn't rare for them to have sex, it was almost like a welcome change of pace. They liked to treat the act as special and didn't take it for granted. Tonight was special though. Tonight almost  _couldn't_ get more special than it already was. Tonight, they were itching for it, itching for the level of intimacy that was achieved through sex. 

Yuuri panted into his mouth and Yuri knew that he wasn't much better but it really wasn't their fault that all of the sudden breathing got a little difficult and the air around them got hot. Yuuri repositioned himself on the bed so he was now straddling Yuri's lap wound one of his hands in the fabric of Yuri's pressed dress shirt, wrinkling it--not that either of them cared, that is. Yuri shouldered off his jacket and tossed it, working a few of the buttons of his shirt open before his hands flew back to Yuuri, his arms enveloping his lover all the way around as if wrapping Yuuri in a bear hug. The action was almost violent, and they fell over backwards. 

In this new position, Yuuri was laying on his back on the bed, legs hooked over Yuri's hips, one hand still clutching at Yuri's shirt and the other wound in his blond hair. Yuri, for his part, was almost literally laying on top of Yuuri, their bodies from the waist up touching completely. His arms were still underneath Yuuri as they kept fitting their mouths together.

Obviously, Yuri was dominating the kiss, but not to his full potential, opting instead to fall back and let Yuuri bite his lip, trace his tongue against Yuri's teeth. It was intoxicating, to say the least.

When Yuri ground down with his hips, Yuuri met him with a groan, his breath stuttering for a moment as a brief feeling of pleasure washed over them both. In a flurry of limbs and a shared feeling of urgency and lust, they broke apart. Yuri nearly tore off the rest of his shirt and rid himself of his uncomfortable dress pants, shucking off his socks and throwing them in the vague direction that his shoes ended up. Yuuri followed suit, shrugging off the formal jacket he wore and shirt, toeing out of his shoes and socks, and kicking off his pants. Yuuri had made a move to pull off his boxers, but then they were once more crashing together before he could finish, falling into each other.

"Yuuri, I-- _fuck"_

Yuri had meant to say something, he was sure of it. The only problem was that when Yuuri unclenched his fingers and slid his hand down until he cupped Yuri in his boxers Yuri very literally lost all train of thought, moaning and pushing into the contact. Their kiss still remained broken but Yuri very nearly forgot about the desire to reconnect their lips together with the sight of Yuuri smirking up devilishly at him and his smooth fingers wrapping themselves around Yuri's dick. Yuuri leaned up, put his lips right up against Yuri's ear, his breath tickling against the shell of it. 

"You aren't in charge tonight, Yura." 

It wasn't a threat or a command for Yuri's compliance, but a statement. They were equals in life to each other and they very rarely addressed the obvious natural power imbalance between them in the form of their secondary genders. Because of Yuri's alpha status, he had a very natural power "foot up" over Yuuri, so to speak, but they only ever used it in bed. And now....gods Yuuri forcing him into submission? That image was both extremely hot and it bristled his inner alpha, if only a little. He settled for a happy medium. 

"Alright," Yuri grinned, rolling his hips down and making Yuuri moan and throw his head back as Yuri gyrated their hips together, "as long as you can actually take charge." 

It was bait, and Yuuri took it. 

They were back to kissing, and Yuuri pulled out all of the tricks he seemed to know, pushing all of Yuri's buttons and working exceedingly hard to try and tip the challenge issued in his favor. Yuri, for his part, practically took handfuls of his natural dominance. Okay, maybe it was just a  _little_ bit cheating, but seeing Yuuri so worked up and acting commanding was  _hot,_ and if Yuri "disobeying" was going to make him even more assertive, then Yuri didn't really give a fuck.

Yuuri started to slow a little, tilt his neck a bit more, letting out a few more breathy gasps than he had been a few minutes, and it made Yuri grin. Looks like things might stay the same, at least for now.

Seconds later, Yuri cursed his cockiness. 

Yuuri, who still had his legs wrapped around Yuri's hips, had waited until Yuri came to the conclusion that he was going to win, and reflexively, relaxed just a little. When the grip Yuri had on him changed, Yuuri let one of his legs fall away from Yuri's body and he used the other one to swing their positions. A sly grin spread onto Yuuri's face as he looked down on the surprised expression of his lover. Before Yuri could do anything--hardly before he could even fully comprehend that he had in fact fallen right into Yuuri's trap--Yuuri grabbed at Yuri's wrists and pinned them above his blond head. He put a knee in between Yuri's spread legs and ground down, increasing the pressure as he lowered himself down a little further, their bodies now only a few inches apart Yuuri's breath hot in Yuri's ear.

Yuri threw his head back and moaned loudly, bucking his hips up into Yuuri's knee, needing, wanting,  _craving,_ the wonderful friction it caused. 

"Tch, looks like I'm not underneath of you anymore, Yuri. In fact, I think _you're_ the one who's quivering under  _my_ touch."

With a breathless gasp of "B-bastard," Yuri let go of his control. Gods, Yuuri's leg felt so  _good_ rocking against his dick like that. Yuri jerked his arm in a half-hearted attempt at getting free, but Yuuri used the rest of his weight to keep Yuri's wrists pinned down.

"Ah ah ah, Yuri, you're under my control, and I want your wrists pinned, so they're going to stay that way."

With a roll of his hips and a harder press of his leg, Yuuri ground down while Yuri met his body with jerky movements of his own. They started to kiss again, harshly making out while rutting against each other on the bed. It was hot and dirty and passionate, filled with grunts and moans, tongues swirling and lips being bitten. Yuri wasn't sure for how long they continued in this practice, but things changed when Yuuri abruptly push off of him, getting off of Yuri's prone body completely before shucking off his boxers, leaving him completely naked. Yuri sat up, intent on taking over the dominance, but then Yuuri was there once again, this time pulling the last piece of clothing off of Yuri, just how much Yuri was turned on visible. 

Yuuri wrapped his fingers around the shaft, giving a few experimental tugs to try and determine how much teasing Yuri could handle like Yuuri normal did whenever they ventured down this path. Yuri, however, wasn't about to sit through any of the plans Yuuri was concocting in his head. He gripped a handful of Yuuri's soft, black hair and guided his mouth onto his dick, sighing in bliss as Yuuri's wet heat enveloped him. He tried to keep his hips as still as possible, but Yuuri never made it easy, and he was certainly not now. He swirled the head around in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the slit before sinking down, bobbing his head. And he repeated the process a few more times before shaking things up.

He had been bobbing, moving his head up and down skillfully, but after he came up for a breath, he sunk right back down, taking Yuuri all the way to the root. That made Yuri moan louder than normal, his hips twitching, fingers tightening around Yuuri's hair, Yuri's free hand coming up to grip at his own blond locks. Yuuri swallowed and Yuri moaned again. He had always loved the feeling of Yuuri's throat constricting around him.

But then it got better. Yuuri hollowed his cheeks out further and  _sucked._

Yuri shouted, both hands now tight in Yuuri's hair as he bucked his hips up into Yuuri's waiting mouth. 

"F-fuck Yuuri!" 

Yuuri kept up that delicious friction and Yuri couldn't help but continue to shallowly thrust his hips, chasing pleasure. Yuuri's fingernails dug into Yuri's hips and his eyes watered a bit, but Yuri didn't worry about it; they had a safeword, and if Yuuri didn't have the capability of speaking (like now, for instance) all it took would be four taps of his hand against Yuri's leg or hip or any other notable surface, and they would stop. Besides, Yuuri's moans around the cock in his mouth assured any doubts or underlying fears Yuri may have.

Soon though, a coil of warmth formed in Yuri's and he knew that his orgasm was fast approaching, so he pulled Yuuri up and off of his cock, crashing his lips against Yuuri's neck, sucking a dark hickey against the bond mark on Yuuri's neck and wrapping one of his hands around Yuuri's dick, giving the smaller man some pleasure of his own. Yuuri melted under Yuri's ministrations, moaning softly and letting out little gasps. Yuri moved his hand soon enough, reaching up and circling a finger around Yuuri's puckered entrance, surprised to find that the tight ring of muscle was already stretched and loose. When he detached from Yuuri's neck to shoot the omega a questioning look, Yuuri blushed a little. 

"I stretched right before the ceremony," he muttered, the blush on his cheeks spreading.

Yuri didn't answer him with words, but with a soft kiss that conveyed everything. Despite the knowledge that he most likely didn't need any more stretching, it had been a little bit since the beginning of the ceremony and Yuri didn't want to hurt his lover. Yuri slid two fingers inside of his lover, adding a third when the first two glided in easily. Yuri spread his fingers, making sure that Yuuri was fully prepared. And no matter how much he may have wanted to, Yuri refrained from seeking out Yuuri's prostate just to make Yuuri that much more desperate. He didn't even try to tell himself that Yuuri was unknowing of what he was doing.

"You tease," he gasped, pushing down on Yuri's fingers, rotating his hips and trying to bring himself as much pleasure as possible. 

Yuri removed his fingers and Yuuri immediately pealed himself off of Yuri so he was sitting up on Yuri's legs. He splayed one of his hands on top of Yuri's chest and used the other to reach behind him, grasping Yuri's cock in his hand and raising his hips so Yuuri was kneeling on the bed. Yuuri used his hand to guide Yuri's cock into him, eyes fluttering shut and moaning as he sunk down, taking all of Yuri in one go. Yuri's hands were white-knuckled on Yuuri's hips and he was practically twitching with the intense need to thrust into Yuuri, but he shoved the need down. He never moved before Yuuri and tonight was not going to be any different.

However, he didn't have to wait very long, because after the initial few seconds of rest and adjustment, Yuuri started to move, sliding himself up and down on Yuri's dick. For the moment, Yuri just laid back and let himself enjoy the sensations coursing through his body.

Yuuri rolled his hips and changed his angle several times, and Yuri knew that he was searching for his prostate. Yuri had a pretty good idea as to the location of Yuuri's prostate--they've been together for  _years_ now, of course Yuri has a decent sense of where Yuuri's prostate was--so he twisted his hips in what he thought was the best direction and thrusted up, hitting the little bundle of nerves on the third thrust. Yuuri cried out, throwing his head back and gasping as Yuri continued his assault, practically bouncing the smaller male on his lap since finding his rhythm.

"Y-Yuri! Ah!" 

Maybe he had more to say after that, but Yuuri's words dissolved into a series of gasps and moans and Yuri took the opportunity with both hands and open arms, changing from his position of laying flat on the bed to sitting straight up, arms tight around Yuuri, mouthing at the bond mark on his neck.

Maybe it was the adrenaline in his veins, maybe it was the fact that it was their wedding night and they were  _husbands now_ (holy shit) or maybe it was some other factor, but Yuri could feel his orgasm fast approaching, and he couldn't stop it. He wrapped his hand around Yuuri's neglected cock, expertly working his shaft, twisting gently at the head. Yuuri moaned harshly from the different sensations clashing, his breath heavier and coming in gasps, haphazardly sitting up and down on Yuri's cock. Yuri couldn't blame him though, he was losing his rhythm too, the pleasure becoming too much too quickly.

And then Yuri was tumbling off of the edge, his orgasm crashing over him in waves, blurring his vision and making him see stars. At some point along the way Yuuri came too, white spurts of come sticking to both of their stomachs, but frankly, it didn't register too greatly with Yuri, for after he tipped over the edge, all he could do was cling to Yuuri's shoulders and sink his teeth into the bond mark on Yuuri's neck, riding out the shockwaves.

They came down gradually, gasping staccato breaths slowly becoming even, their grips on each other gradually loosening. Eventually, Yuri pulled out and they collapsed against the bed, wrapping themselves around each other in post-orgasm bliss. There they laid, Yuuri sleepily playing with Yuri's blond hair.

"I love you, you know. And you have no idea how happy you made me today by marrying me," Yuuri said, breaking the silence after many minutes. Yuri rolled his eyes affectionately before dropping a loving kiss to Yuuri's swollen lips.

"You make it sound like a chore."

"Well I mean-"

"No. None of that. Come on we talked about this.  _I love you._ I am never going to  _stop_ loving you. Never. You get to deal with me for the rest of eternity."

Yuuri smiled up at his lover; his Yura.

"Good. I wouldn't have it any other way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's over. 
> 
> I can't believe it. Did you like it? Was it worth the wait or a total disappointment? ~~How 'bout that sex scene huh can you tell that my asexual ass doesn't know shit about sex or sexual attraction~~
> 
> I am so sorry that this was extremely late! I was struggling with writer's block and some personal health stuff for a little, so I couldn't get much writing time in, and when I did, there was a lot of time where I didn't have a single clue as to what I should write; it was so frustrating! 
> 
> So I want to specifically thank you for sticking around for me to finally finish this fic.
> 
> Anyways, I also want to thank you guys so much because all of your comments, kudos, and encouragement mean the absolute _world_ to me. They inspired me to keep powering through my writing and drafts and such when I was having trouble, and they really made my day. I am so so so SO glad that you guys gave me such a positive response to this fic, and frankly, this has been one of my favorite pieces that I have written (and that includes the TONS of drabbles I write occasionally during class when I'm bored). 
> 
> So thank you, dear reader, you made this author so much happier than you know.
> 
> Now. 
> 
> I have started working on a new piece, and I think that you (or at least some of you) are going to really like it! And we're talking **the sequel for my other story, Battle For The Heart!** I'm sooo excited to finish it and share it with you guys since you all loved it so much, and I want you all to know that I am accepting prompts for it! Have something particular you want to see? A headcanon you want me to try and incorporate? Send me a comment and I'll do my best!!!

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos always welcome, and fanart is totally appreciated (link it to me or shoot me an email at realitya03@gmail.com)
> 
> thank you for reading ;)


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